Speak of the Devil
by How Like a Winter
Summary: 50 Theme challenge centering around Esau and Jacob, occasionally including others such as Claire, Richard, Ben, and Ilana. Sometimes contains slash, but with a warning beforehand. COMPLETE.
1. Threat

Prompt: **Threat**

"Why did you kill him?"

Esau smirked, pleased to have ruffled Jacob's feathers for once. "I was bored."

Arching one eyebrow, Jacob said, "There's a whole island for you to wreak havoc on, yet you choose a child?"

"Just passing the time, I suppose." Usually only Esau longed to hurt the other man, draw blood or elicit a groan of pain—yes, those desires fueled the man in black, and fury was his domain.

But today, he reversed their roles by some marvelous twist of fate. Who could have guessed how much Jacob liked the little pests? Esau's grin widened as he noticed the muscles in Jacob's jaw tighten, his sharp blue eyes narrowed. Glancing down at the child's corpse, studying every inch of the pale face smudged with dry blood, Jacob said, "This is the last child you will kill." He did not plead or even kindly request it, but rather demanded it.

With that heavy-lidded, bored expression that his counterpart so often wore, Esau said, "Oh, and why is that?"

"Because the day you do will begin an eternity spent only in the form of the smoke monster."

"Don't make me laugh with your empty threats, Jacob."

"That sounds a lot like what you said the day you were sentenced to this Island," Jacob replied, so softly that the chatter of the others approaching the beach nearly drowned out his words.

Stunned, Esau opened his mouth to yell, to shout back some angry retort, to curse his captor with the worst insults he could think of. But with Jacob's pets nearing their location, Esau knew he had to make himself scarce at once. As much as it pained him to do so, hiding his true form was just another one of the orders that he had to follow, lest Jacob's words become more than just empty threats.

* * *

**AN**: Is there any character category for Esau/MIB/whatever? I couldn't find one, but I would so love to include him in the main characters, since this is titled after him and all.


	2. I'm here

Prompt: **I'm Here**

Though the man in black spent a good deal of his time tearing through the jungle forests and frightening the others, he could only rampage for so long before tiring of his one pleasure. It had been a successful day; one of the less stable newcomers to the Island had feared the mysterious smoke monster so much that he threw himself off a cliff in an effort to rid himself of the smoke-filled nightmares that tormented him day and night. However, even on the more entertaining days—especially on those days, it seemed—the rage boiled over into a raw craving to just leave the damn prison of an Island or else wring Jacob's neck if he couldn't.

But he could do neither. Still, he desired with everything in him to view a desert or a prairie, see glimpses of the wonders he had only overheard talk of from the outsiders, explore the rest of the Earth and watch another set of stars at night. The urge twisted within Esau until he finally collapsed on the beach to recover himself, overrun by the painful ache. Sitting on the sand, he bowed his head and did everything in his power to not think about anything at all.

When a tear slipped down his cheek, he slapped it away, but another hand caught his before he could notice Jacob's presence and dissolve into smoke.

Releasing Esau's hand, Jacob sat down next to the dark-haired man. "I don't like this any more than you do."

Esau looked up to glare at Jacob. "Don't try to pretend you know how it feels. You can leave this hellhole whenever you want."

"And you can talk and walk among these people, if you choose. You can at least roam the Island. When I'm here, and you know that I rarely leave, I can't even leave my cave most of the time."

"I don't care about any of that. I just want to _go_." Esau's voice rose with both desperation and anger. "Just let me leave, Jacob."

"You know I can't do that."

"Believe me when I say that if I could, I would do it right now."

The dark-haired man had no more energy left to demand or even beg. Despairing, he lowered his head and concentrated on steadying his ragged breath. With a heavy sigh, Jacob rested one hand on Esau's shoulder in silent reassurance of his presence, the only comfort that he could give.


	3. Falter

Prompt: **Falter  
****AN: How I came up with Puritans from the word "falter," the world may never know.**

* * *

"Mary!" Richard ran after the young woman to catch up with the preacher's daughter, whom he had glimpsed from a distance walking away from the cabin. "What did he want this time?"

Adjusting one of the pins in her bun, Mary furrowed her brow in confusion. "You have not heard about James and I?"

"Heard what?"

"Why, we are engaged to be married!" Struggling to understand her thick British accent, Richard hoped that he had misunderstood her. Laughing at Richard's expression, she said, "You do not agree that it is a good idea? Father thought it most appropriate since James is, after all, a sort of leader in this place, and Father is the leader of our church. It will be the first marriage to take place in the New World, isn't that exciting?"

Stunned, Richard blinked as thoughts raced through his head. "I thought your father had said…James…is a heathen." He nearly slipped up and referred to the man in black as Esau, but caught himself just in time.

"Oh Richard, that was months ago."

As they reached the camp, Mary waved at her friend Elizabeth. Approaching the two, Elizabeth demanded, "Is it true that you and James are to be married? Abigail told me, but I did not believe it."

"Tell her, Richard," said Mary, smiling up at him expectantly.

"Well—yes, yes they are," he stammered, and Elizabeth's face fell. Though Richard could not imagine why, she sighed, crestfallen.

"I suppose it is wonderful news indeed." Turning around, Elizabeth walked back towards her house without another word.

Grinning, Mary whispered to the Spaniard, "I believe she envies me. After all, James is quite a powerful man, and Elizabeth rather fancies him. I am sorry if it upset her, but it _is_ such wonderful news, isn't it?" When Richard faltered, she repeated the question.

"Of course," he finally said, in the most cheerful tone he could muster. But even to his own ears, it sounded fake. Mary hardly noticed, though, blissful as she was. As she left, walking with such joy in her step that she nearly skipped, Richard shook his head and tried not to consider Mary's apparent future.


	4. Compliment

4. **Compliment** (continuation of the last)

When Esau next visited the camp, Richard could hardly hold his tongue, but acknowledged that he had no other choice. He could only guide the others as best he could, not interfere in the business of the immortals, no matter what tricks Esau (or Jacob, for that matter) had planned. For that reason, it worried him more than anything else watching Esau stride into the camp with such ease, the poor souls with no idea what monster walked among them.

"Good morning, Reverend Wright." Esau shook the preacher's hand and continued in that pleasant tone, "I am honored that you have chosen me as your daughter's husband." Even knowing full well the true identity of the smoke monster, Richard had to admit that Esau deceived with as much ease as one would expect from Satan himself, not the dark-haired man constantly shouting at or threatening Jacob.

"You are aware that she is already nineteen, correct?" asked Wright. When Esau nodded, he continued, "It is a blessing to have found you before it became too late. As it is, the wedding should be arranged with utmost haste."

Half-listening, Richard stared at Elizabeth, who glared at Mary with all the ferocity of a mother bear facing one who had stolen what belonged to only her.

The two men spoke for some time, discussing the details of the future wedding. Richard left the settlement for awhile, roaming the jungle for something to eat besides the bland vegetables that the others grew, and distracting himself from the dismal matter at hand. After some time, he heard voices in the distance—one a smooth baritone, and the other a cheerful lilt.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, Mary?"

She giggled, cheeks flushed red. "I'm not sure if Father would approve of you saying such things before we are wed."

_Already nineteen?_ Richard understood that the newcomers were pressed to marry and bear children quickly, due to the possibility of some new disease or other threat on the Island. But as he watched Mary with Esau, he realized how young and naïve the bride-to-be actually was.


	5. Grave

5. **Grave **(conclusion of the last)

When Richard rapped on the wooden door of the Wright's cabin, no one answered at first. "Is anyone here?"

"Yes," called a trembling voice, and Richard heard the lock turn before the door creaked open. Reverend Wright's eyes were rimmed with red, and his puffy cheeks stained with tears.

"What happened?" asked Richard softly, looking past the preacher to try and glimpse Mary within the house. His heart sank when he saw that she was not inside.

"A tragedy. It was a tragedy. Come inside, Richard." Reverend Wright turned and led Richard into the house and gestured for him to sit down. "Elizabeth Brown has lost her mind, we believe. She will not leave her home, but simply babbles to anyone who will listen about a monster that she claims has haunted her for the past six weeks. A creature of smoke, she calls it."

"What about Mary? Is she alright?"

The Reverend furrowed his brow in confusion. "How have you not heard? We...." He choked back a sob. "We found her dead in her room, a black magic circle engraved on the walls. Elizabeth confessed to the murder and claimed that 'the devil made her do it.' " Wright spat the words mockingly and continued, "She is to be hung for witchcraft and murder."

_The devil made her do it_. Richard closed his eyes and considered how frighteningly close that probably was to the truth.

Then Wright's fury dissipated into a grief so heavy that he bent over and held his head in his hands, weeping again for his lost daughter.


	6. Good riddance

6. **Good riddance**

There were several types of Esau—civil, angry, cunning, and bored. Jacob rarely saw the first anymore, and the other three were equally dangerous to both those new to the Island and Jacob himself. The last, boredom, often gave way to Esau thinking up some new way to torment the outsiders, but if he was particularly uninspired then boredom would become unbridled rage, usually focused at Jacob.

Again, Jacob found himself facing that rage.

"You think I'm too harsh on the others? Maybe if you didn't hide in this cave all the time, you could change things."

"You're not going to provoke me, you know. I have reasons for staying here."

"Keep telling yourself that, Jacob, if it makes you feel like any less of a coward."

Jacob leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes, smiling with satisfaction. No matter how much Esau wanted to pick an argument, it wasn't going to happen, not after today's small victory…. An entire wall of tapestry had been completed after years of work, even more if one counted how many months it took to spin the thread, and Jacob was determined to savor the success. "Call me what you like."

Suddenly his eyes popped open as he heard a peculiar snapping noise. Jerking his head up, Jacob saw Esau carelessly picking at the recently-hung tapestry, separating and breaking the strands. "Hey, don't touch that!" He jumped out of the chair and shoved Esau away, but it was too late. Staring at the tangled threads in the palm of his hand, Jacob gritted his teeth to keep from giving Esau the pleasure of knowing the magnitude of what he had done.

Esau lifted his eyebrows in mock horror. "Sorry, Jacob, I had no idea it was so important to you."

"What do you think this accomplished? I'm the coward, right? But you're so fed up with being stuck here that—oh, you ruined a tapestry, how very brave of you. I can hardly think of a more daring act."

Narrowing his eyes, Esau said, "Just stop before one of us—"

"It's not like you could really hurt me."

"There are things worse than death," Esau began, but Jacob cut him off again.

"Not only can you not get rid of me, you can't even hurt me." Leaning closer to Esau, Jacob smirked and whispered, "Doesn't that just _kill_ you?"

"Know that there is more I can do to you than physical harm."

"Oh, well, I guess you just haven't thought of it yet." When Esau stared at Jacob in disbelief, he said, "Now get out of my cave."


	7. Fingertips

7. **Fingertips **(continuation of the last)

This contains slash.

* * *

It took him three weeks to track Esau down after the argument that ended with the tapestry in shreds. At the time, Jacob could hardly think of insults strong enough to hurl at the damned man in black, who had determined to hurt Jacob in any way he could find besides physical abuse. Even then, that was only because such pain was forbidden.

But now, Jacob searched for his counterpart in a rotting old cabin, built by one of the others from some society that had long crumbled like the one preceding it. Rocking back and forth in a squeaky wooden chair, hair mussed and unwashed, Esau just looked like another aged, eccentric mortal who lost his mind after too much time on the Island. Perhaps that wasn't too far from the truth.

Esau didn't raise an eyebrow upon seeing Jacob, though Jacob hardly expected him to be surprised. Somehow, even now, the dark-haired man fixed Jacob with a stare so powerful and unflappable that he thought, maybe that's what drew him back to Esau. Still, the few wrinkles on his face were more pronounced, and dark circles under his eyes betrayed exhaustion. Jacob supposed that he probably shared the same blank, dead-eyed look as Esau while they studied one another in silence. They remained that way until Jacob could hardly hold the gaze for another minute and sat down in a nearby chair, feet aching from standing for so long. Both were too weary for another argument. Just when he considered leaving altogether, a hand gripped his arm, tightly but not quite painfully so.

"I thought you might come." The man's voice still rang with the force of iron behind it, commanding as ever. "How did you find me?"

"I always find you eventually."

"Of course. You never can leave me alone."

Jerking free from the grip, Jacob stood up and said, "Maybe I should just go." Trying to repair the last argument would only lead to another one, as always, but then those fingers were on his arm again, pulling him back down, closer than before.

When Esau spoke again, he sounded as weary as he looked. "That's not what I meant. I don't want you to leave, Jacob."

"I wouldn't blame you for it."

Then Jacob's ragged breathing paused entirely at the faint sensation of the fingertips brushing his arm. Every hair stood on end as a low voice whispered in his ear, ""I'm not done with you yet."

Without warning Esau threw himself on the blonde, knocking Jacob to the floor before he even had a chance to even respond. He bit his lip to keep himself from crying out in surprise—he'd braced for something, but not that. As he pushed Esau's hands away from his face, Esau lowered his head to Jacob and kissed him, and Jacob was too startled to try to twist away. Esau's lips on his sent tingles all throughout Jacob's body, tiny shocks of pleasure, and then he felt the same cold fire burning as when Esau ripped the tapestry apart. The hands, instead of touching Jacob's face any longer, tugged at the white shirt so hard that Esau's fingers dug into the skin at the back of Jacob's neck and it might have hurt if there weren't so many other sensations flooding through him. At last Jacob couldn't help but cry out, trying to struggle, trying to push Esau away, but the needs of his body made it impossible to concentrate.

Finally, though, he shoved Esau off and stood up. His hands shook, but it wasn't all fear. As Esau began to stand as well and opened his mouth to speak, Jacob turned and ran like mad from the cabin, face burning with shame and rage both at what had just taken place and the fact that he had fled. Never before had he run away from Esau, but then, nothing like this had ever happened before.


	8. Jealous

8. **Jealous**

**AN**: I thought this was going to turn into slash, but no, not today. Sort of implied at the end, though.

* * *

"Haven't seen you in awhile," Jacob remarked.

Ducking under the stone doorway as he entered the main room of the cave, Richard said, "You haven't summoned me."

"You can come here anytime you like, you know."

Richard shrugged, knowing that in fact he was not, but at times Jacob said things that weren't entirely…straightforward. While it was true that Richard could, in theory, approach Jacob at any time, it was not encouraged, and he may not necessarily be welcome just because he knew the location of the cave and how to enter. "Things have been a little busy with the new arrivals."

"Hmm." Staring into space thoughtfully, Jacob thought for a moment before he said, "I've been watching their leader for some time now. It'll be interesting to see how he handles this place…but enough about him. How have you been?"

"Well enough. You wanted to see me?"

"Ricardus." Jacob sighed the word. "All's well with the explorers, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you so tense?" As Richard opened his mouth to deny it, Jacob continued, a slight smirk on his face, "I think I know what you need."

Trying not to sound too impatient, Richard said, "Please, tell me."

"All this work as intermediary must be very demanding. Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around, Ricardus."

Jacob walked around behind the Spaniard. When Jacob reached toward Richard's shoulder, he flinched. "What are you doing?"

"Relax." Taking Richard's shoulders in each hand, Jacob felt for tension with his thumbs and fingers. As he suspected, Richard's neck and back were rigid, muscles like tightly-stretched cables. "Try to loosen up."

Though Jacob saw the release of tension in the set of Richard's shoulders, heard it in the soft release of held breath, he barely felt it at all—the back muscles were still rigid. Jacob concentrated harder and located a point of tension under Richard's shoulder blades with his fingertips, digging in slowly.

"That feels good," Richard said, and sighed as Jacob probed the area around his shoulder blades with slender fingers, varying the pressure as he found worst points. The tension in the muscles slowly started to ease under his fingers. "Where did you learn to do this?"

"You'd be surprised how many arguments can be avoided with a backrub," Jacob said, smiling to himself. He knew that his comment must have bewildered Richard, who indeed furrowed his brow in confusion, but said nothing more.

From the beach, Esau watched Jacob's abode with narrowed eyes. He knew—for Jacob made no effort to hide it—what went on in that cave between Jacob and Richard, many times not nearly as innocent (or quiet) as a simple massage. Once, that had been himself, the only possible object of Jacob's attention, receiving "favors" to help him "loosen up," but since the arrival of Richard, those days had long passed. Esau supposed that it made sense for Jacob to move on after an eternity with Esau, who didn't bother to hide how much he wanted to kill him half the time, but still, it was an unexpected abandonment. After countless years spent only with one other, Jacob had forgotten him in a matter of months?


	9. Strings

9. **Strings**

This contains slash (actually, more so than I've ever ventured to write before. I admit that I'm timid with it, so unfortunately I rarely practice _ ).

* * *

Most of the time, they do hate one another, but sometimes the boredom of gloomy, dull eternity forces the need for a distraction.

Jacob wakes from uneasy sleep when the door creaks open, and he recognizes Esau by the heavy footsteps. No one else would stride so unabashedly into Jacob's territory like that. The way he moves always fascinates Jacob, so confident despite him being the prisoner, and it's even more captivating when Esau slides onto Jacob's bed and swings one leg over his to straddle the blonde.

Esau's lips press insistently against Jacob's, almost fiercely, as Jacob expected they would be. He blinks in alarm when he realizes that he can't shake the grip of Esau's wrists. Not that Jacob really wants to—he's been bored and frustrated for weeks only to find himself suddenly pinned to his bed by his only companion. Knowing Esau's aggressive instincts, it's no surprise to feel his teeth at Jacob's neck. Wasting no time, Esau shoves the sheet aside and wraps his hand around Jacob where he is already embarrassingly hard, and he can imagine that this is no surprise to Esau.

Of course, he knows exactly what he's doing, and the way his hand moves over Jacob is skilful and on the verge of painful, just no-nonsense twists and pressure that unravels him far too quickly, and it's too much, too fast. Jacob swallows the moan that tugs as his throat, willing himself to keep silent.

"I saw you spying on me earlier," Esau growls, and though Jacob hears the words he only wants to arch his hips into the touch, but Esau's weight keeps him pinned. "You need to be taught a lesson," he hisses, and as Esau's voice echoes around Jacob he isn't sure if he's nodding or shaking his head or completely still, because the room lurches and spins in front of him and Esau is so close. A little rougher in the way he moves, and Jacob's too far gone, his body needs it, and he's just staring and doing nothing to fight it, and Esau smirks and licks his lips. He squeezes Jacob a little more tightly, and Jacob's lost to it, the shock of it surging through him, mixing with the sensation of the constant stroking, and he feels himself seize and shudder, hears himself cry out, and Esau laughs.

When both are satiated, Esau tugs the sweat-soaked blanket off the bed. He lies down next to Jacob, with just enough space between them so that no part of their bodies touch, and promptly collapses into sleep.

But Jacob remains awake. He can already feel soreness setting in, and knows he'll have an uncomfortable time of it for awhile. And for what, a brief distraction? A few seconds of uncertain pleasure/pain? It hadn't solved anything. Nothing had changed, really.

As if they were threads on the loom, Jacob gently twists the strands of Esau's hair, slides his fingers in the black strings without concern for waking the other man. No, Esau, will be asleep for some time. The fire's long burnt out, and Jacob is unable to see even the face of the other in the dark. Of course it is better that way, because in the absence of light he does not have to acknowledge that anything took place at all.


	10. Semantics

10. **Semantics**

Implied slash, but the last of the slash for awhile. **_Strings_** from Esau's point of view.

* * *

It is Jacob who imprisons Esau on the Island, Jacob who creates and holds Esau to the rules, Jacob who guides the outsiders from afar. Yet somehow that's just a technicality at times; Esau is the one in charge in every other way, or at least that's what he tells himself. It's a twisted consolation prize, to be trapped but yet dominate the captor beneath the sheets. (Maybe it's just Jacob allowing Esau those few occasions of believing that he has some authority, somewhere?—but Esau denies that fiercely).

It was just another one of those days when the loneliness and the fury at his fate dragged him down further than mere misery, but not quite depression either. Sometimes, he just needed to know the taste of control, the alluring illusion of power, and on that day it tempted him to the point where even tormenting the islanders provided insufficient pleasure. Oh, how he dreaded those days. But at least he had some semblance of a cure, one that would slake his impulse until the next incident.

So he obeyed his instincts, allowing himself into Jacob's abode, and when he had, he breathed in deeply at seeing the sleeping immortal, leapt on the bed and fucked him.

Oh, how Esau enjoyed the gasp as he raked his hands down Jacob's bare back, the soft moan as Esau sucked on the soft pale skin. It was a welcome release, and he savored the sight and the sound of Jacob caught off-guard, in a situation he had not orchestrated himself, not in complete control for those fleeting moments.

Maybe by day Jacob does get to play the jail keeper and the one with the leash, but under the cover of darkness, those are only semantics.


	11. Innocence

11. **Innocence**

The tiny, wiry boy of twelve is stunned to see his mother outside the window, gazing at him calmly as the breeze just slightly lifts her blonde curls, as if it is perfectly normal that he should see her. He snatches his glasses off his face and rubs them quickly with the cloth of his shirt and then squints through the lenses, unsure of the sight before him.

"Mom?" he calls, his voice shaky with bewilderment.

A loud rap startles him suddenly, and he twists around on his bed as Roger Linus yells, "I thought I told you to go to bed!"

And then a few weeks later, Esau does it again, this time outside the security pylons of the Dharma settlement. Ben's wide eyes and tearful words make Esau smile, and look forward to the next time when he can visit Ben.

But the very best time, the one that still makes him laugh when he recalls it, is when Richard brings Ben to the temple for healing. He couldn't actually be there for it, not being allowed in the Temple and all, but he knew exactly what went on in there, and it was better than anything even he could try.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Jacob takes a swig of the wine and then swirls it around in the bottle.

"You're just jealous you don't get to have this much fun in your cave, Jacob."

Jacob doesn't reply; he doesn't have to. Instead, he sticks the cork back in the bottle, holds it upside-down, and looks pointedly at the other man.

Still, no matter how tight a reign Jacob keeps on Esau, that won't return the little boy's innocence.


	12. Dispose

12. **Dispose**

She wiped her nose on her dirty sleeve and sniffed. "They abandoned me," she sobbed, gasping for breath. "After all we've been through together, they left me here like—like they just wanted to be rid of me."

"That's awful, Claire." Locke shook his head and pulled her closer to him with one arm as they sat on the beach, staring into the endless blue. "The things people will do to one another."

"Yeah. Well, now I don't even know what else to do…what's the point, if I'm just stuck here?"

"I know exactly how you feel." For once, Esau did not lie. "But don't worry. They'll be coming back. And when they do, we'll be right here waiting for them."

"I just—I can't believe they just disposed of me like we never even knew each other." She sniffed again and blinked back more tears.

Locke turned to look her in the eye and said, "I will never abandon you, Claire."

She offered a tiny smile. "I'm sure they would've said that too, not long ago."

"Then I'll prove it to you. They may have left you here, but you will never be alone again."

"You mean that?" When he nodded, she sighed and said, "Thanks. That means a lot to me."


	13. Neglect

13. **Neglect**

"You might want to check on your pet, Jacob. She was in a bit of a tangle, and I had to get her out."

"What do you mean?" asked Jacob, pausing in his stroll along the side of the beach.

"She went in the jungle and sprung one of the old traps. You're lucky I was in the neighborhood."

Hiding the concern from his voice, Jacob said, "Where is she?"

When Esau pointed, Jacob started walking in that direction until he knew that the trees masked him from Esau's view, and then began to run. His heart pounded as he approached Ilana, who had pulled her legs up and trembled against the side of a tree, and he demanded, "What happened?"

She lifted her head up from where it rested on the tree and shrugged. "I just went for a walk, and I got caught in a net."

"You came out here without Richard?"

Her gaze drifted from his for a moment, a sign of her reluctance to answer truthfully. With a sigh, she admitted, "Yeah."

"You could have been—"

"Killed, right? I know. I won't do it again."

"That's absolutely right. Until I can trust you to make safer decisions, you're not leaving the cave without Richard." When Ilana's eyes widened and she opened her mouth in protest, he said, "You're incredibly fortunate that not only did the man in black come along, but he was willing to rescue you. Imagine if the others had found you!"

The girl jutted out her lower lip in disappointment. "I'm not a child anymore. Besides, Richard shouldn't have to babysit me!"

"You're right. He shouldn't. But I can't leave the cave for now, and clearly someone has to do it. I have to keep you safe."

"You can't do that forever, especially if I'm going to leave the Island later, like you said."

His voice softened. "I know. That's why I need to protect you now, while I can."


	14. Quake

14. **Quake**

Claire assured him that she would be alright if he left her alone for a little while. When he asked her if she was certain, she repeated it louder, trying to convince herself as well as Locke. (She had begun to wonder about this "Locke" by now, though, especially when he narrowed his eyes like that, and it seemed that he had changed in some way.) But despite both of their doubts, he agreed to come right back at morning, promised that not a minute would pass after the sun rose before he would stand there as he did just then. Never had he lied to her, and she trusted his word no matter what he said, she honestly did.So naturally, she fell asleep almost promptly after he walked out of sight, after she watched him fade into the distance.

But in her sleep, she relived that day when she learned that Jack and the others had abandoned her to the Island; even in dreams, she shuddered at the impact of the disbelief, the despair. And when her eyes flickered open, she did not remember why Locke did not rest nearby, gasping as she jumped to her feet and glanced around to find him. The panic passed as she recalled his departure earlier, and she lay back down, breathing steadily again.

Following the nightmare, though, the solitude gnawed at her from that moment on. Her heart pounded as she imagined every dismal possibility—what if something happened to him? The Island had its dangers, and that reckless nature of his could be fatal. What if he simply did not return? She could hardly bear the thought. When had he said he'd be back? When the sun began to rise, or when it had finished rising? He could have even meant noon, when the sun rose to the highest point that it would that day. She might lose her mind if she did not see him until noon. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jack, or Kate, and heard them as if she had just spoken to them yesterday, and she wanted to scream at them, punish them for the betrayal. More than anything, though, she just longed to hear Locke's voice and know that there was one who would _not_ abandon her, not ever….

"Good morning, Claire! Did you sleep well?"

She sat up at once and sighed, relieved beyond all words to see the familiar face. "Not at all," she said, and tried to sound nonchalant, even attempted to laugh, but it rung hollow in her ears.

Approaching her, Locke's eyes searched her and he said, "I should never have left you by yourself."

"Well—it's not your fault, you had to—"

"No, it should have been clear to me that these things take a little more time. I only hope that you will accept my apology."

A smile broke out on her face and she said, "Of course, John. You came back, after all. I know I can trust you."

He wrapped an arm around her as they walked off towards the beach. "Thanks, Claire. That means a lot to me."


	15. Guess

15. **Guess**

If he wasn't John Locke, who was he?

While Claire had never feared him—in fact, she trusted him more than the real John Locke—he was even more secretive than Locke had been. Most of the time, it satisfied her just to know that whoever or whatever he was, he was there. Eventually, though, curiously nagged at her until she finally asked, "If you're not John Locke, who are you?"

He glanced up at her from where he had stooped to inspect a squirrel caught in a trap. "Do you trust me, Claire?"

"Of course I do!"

"Good. Then you'll believe me when I say that I can't tell you exactly who I am, but that I am your friend."

Sometimes that was enough to end her questions, but it still troubled her that she had no name to know him by, as though he were a ghost that could vanish at any moment and leave her alone again.


	16. Name

16.** Name**

"John" (for she continued to call him that), "can't you just tell me?"

Locke gritted his teeth and swallowed the retort that threatened to spring out. "Claire, I'm surprised that you still don't trust me."

"Oh, I do trust you. That's why I wish I knew what to call you, instead of somebody else's name. It just doesn't feel right, you know?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he said, "If you trust me, you'll be content with what I've already told you." Gritting his teeth in irritation, he waded through the waves to fetch the trap he'd set out that morning, intending to bring back that night's supper.

"It's just a name, like Claire Littleton or Jack," she yelled over the waves. "Are you—are you Jacob?"

Returning to the shore, Locke suppressed a laugh. She couldn't have been further away and yet closer to the truth. "No, Claire, I'm not Jacob."

"Then why can't you just tell me?"

Approaching Claire, Locke thrust a finger in her face and said, "Now you listen to me. I asked you to stop several times already, and—"

"Come on, John—" Before she could continue, she found herself landing on the sand and pressing the side of her face with her hand. When she drew the hand away from her stinging cheek, it was smeared red with blood. Stunned, she blinked in an effort to regain her bearings. "John, what—why did you do that?"

Inwardly, he cursed his own inability to control his temper. Hopefully, he could still turn this situation to his advantage, and teach her a lesson at the same time. "I don't appreciate you questioning me, Claire."

Standing to her feet, she brushed the sand off her clothes. "Well, I don't appreciate being slapped!"

He walked closer so that he loomed over Claire. "Maybe you'd rather be alone, then."

Her eyes widened in panic. "You wouldn't!"

"You clearly don't trust me, and I can't have that. I require complete and absolute faith, just like the faith John Locke had in this Island." Yes, that sounded nice. Claire didn't need to know how futile John's faith in the Island had been. "If it becomes clear to me that you fail in that regard, I can vanish as quickly as this. Look behind you, Claire."

An incredulous expression on her face, she obeyed, and when she turned back around to demand why, Locke had disappeared. Glancing in every direction, she cried out, "John, where are you? I-I'm sorry, it will never happen again! I do trust you, I swear!" She strained her voice, calling out until suddenly, when she whirled around again, he stood behind her.

"Then you will accept what I tell you," he said simply, and she nodded in desperate agreement.


	17. Brood

17. **Brood**

**AN: I wrote this before Across the Sea, so this is very AU.**

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* * *

**His head propped on one fist, Jacob slouched on the tree stump and stared into the fire as he had for the past half hour. The sun had long set, and the rest of the family slept inside the tent. Apparently no one had wondered why Jacob was not also in the tent with them, and though he hardly expected them to, it did surprise him that even Rebecca had not asked. No doubt they were all inside consoling Esau, who had been whining over his lost birthright for the past week.

When Jacob heard a soft noise growing closer behind him, he turned his head and said, "You need something?"

"I just want to talk." Esau walked up to the fire, but did not sit, instead looming over the other so that Jacob couldn't help standing to face his older brother. "I understand why you wanted my inheritance."

Arching one eyebrow, Jacob said, "There's more to thievery than the love of money?"

"Look, Jacob, you're my brother, and I love you." When Jacob started to roll his eyes, Esau continued, "But you and I both know how Mother and Father feel about us."

At those words, Jacob froze. "What are you talking about?"

Esau sighed heavily. As much as Jacob's avoiding the issue annoyed him, Isaac had explained Jacob's jealousy to Esau. "I'm the hunter he always wanted; you're the daughter she never had. But that was never enough. Since birth you've been the one grasping my heel, fighting to get ahead."

"Watch your tone."

Though Jacob spoke so evenly that they may as well have been discussing the weather, Esau noticed the tightly-clenched jaw and realized smugly that Jacob struggled to control his anger. "Or what will you do? You've already taken everything I have, even what Father meant to give to me and now cannot."

"Oh, you're good." Staring at the ground, Jacob paced back and forth, and jerked his head up to search Esau's eyes. "You're trying to convince me to return your birthright in an effort to impress Mommy and Daddy."

"No, Jacob, I want to help you before you do anything more drastic." Esau lowered his voice. "Mother won't be pleased if you go through with this, and you'd hate to lose her favor too. You'd be nothing more than a common thief, outcast from his family."

The corner of Jacob's mouth turned up in a tiny smirk and he said, "You're as much a liar as I am a thief."

"Denying it won't change anything. Mother is furious that you have betrayed your own father—"

Jacob shoved a finger in his brother's face and said, "I know you're lying, because it was Mother who suggested I take the birthright from you." Then he chuckled and said, "You can call me the daughter she never had, or whatever else you want, but I have the only thing that matters."

When Jacob strode back into the tent, Esau swore under his breath. Together, he and Isaac would find a better plan, they hadtoo. _I _will _get my inheritance back, no matter what it takes. Every trick that you have, you learned from me._


	18. Storm

18. **Storm**

**AN: There's something unique about writing Claire and Esau, like at any moment one of them is about to snap and do something crazy. Also, finale tonight!**

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When the thunder crackled for the first time, Claire yelped in surprise. A mere sprinkle had burst into a storm in a matter of seconds. Lightning struck a tree much too close to her, and she could only stare with eyes wide as saucers as the tree bent over and crashed into one nearby. The wind slapped her hair against her face as her eyes darted around wildly for Locke, but he seemed to have vanished. "John?" While the rain continued it reminded her too closely of the murmur of the voices that sometimes whispered near her, and she ran a hand through her hair desperately, gripping the blonde strands fiercely as if trying to anchor herself against being swept away.

And then John appeared behind her, out of nowhere, and seized her shaking wrist in his firm grip. "Let's get you out of here." He dragged her behind him as she stumbled through the mud that tugged at her feet, and he rolled his eyes as she gasped for breath.

Since the log cabin wouldn't be of any use to them if it were struck by lightning and burnt down, John headed for a tiny cave, where Claire collapsed against the wall and panted heavily. "Where were you? I thought for sure I was a goner."

_You could have just run back here, rather than standing there like some kind of—_he wouldn't even let himself finish the thought, because if he allowed it, he might snap and lose everything he had worked for with Claire. "I apologize, Claire. Just needed to take care of something." He slid down the side of the wall so that he was sitting next to her. "I had no idea the weather would take this bad of a turn." He wondered if it was Jacob's work, or just pure chance. But nothing was chance, not anymore.

Then she rested her head against his shoulder and he sighed.


	19. Now

19. **Now**

**AN: "Wow" is about all I can say after that. What a finale!**

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The tan, leathery hands ran through the tangled mass of Claire's hair, combing gently as she sobbed. A nightmare about her son, combined with the previous night's storm, had wreaked havoc on her delicate mental state. Once again he found himself playing the role of comforter, one that he had not expected, and wasn't sure he fit.

Standing to his feet, he stepped out of the cave to inspect the storm's damage. Gazing into a puddle, he glimpsed his reflection, lips parting in surprise at the sight. Even by this time, he did not expect the startling green eyes, darker skin, and bare head. None of it looked like him, and that made sense, because it was John Locke - how he longed for the chance to transform and return to his true self instead of walking around in this foreign body. Even after a couple thousand years of being able to choose any form imaginable, he'd always preferred his own.

And when he returned to the cave to console Claire, reassuring her of his presence, he nearly paused at the sound of his own voice. In his dreams, he spoke only in Esau's familiar baritone.


	20. By My Side

20. **By My Side**

Her heart sank when the submarine started its descent beneath the waves. She almost doubted the sight before her eyes, wide with horror, and glanced back at Locke to cry, "They're leaving us!"

As he opened his mouth to respond, she lunged forward in an attempt to somehow convince the sub to return for her. "Hey, wait!" she screamed, even though there was no chance that her pleas would penetrate the cold metal.

Instead, as it continued to sink out of sight, Locke's arm snaked around and retrained her. "Claire, it's okay."

"No, they're—let me go!" Desperately she struggled against him, but as he pressed her against him, the submarine plunged into the water and she could no longer see it at all. Even if it was not yet immersed, her vision was blurred with tears, and only when it was completely gone did Locke release her, reassuring her that she did not, in fact, want to be on the sub.

She did not quite understand the full impact of his words—that every one of them would die—but she understood that every one of them had abandoned her again. This time, their betrayal saved her life; or rather, by holding her back, John had saved her. And this time, he would punish the ones who had actually tricked Claire into believing she could forgive and forget, move on and trust them a second time. Dead or alive, her half-brother and the rest of them would have been lost to her, but this way they suffered the consequences.

"You're safe with me, I promise you that. And there is still a chance for you to leave the Island."

Glancing up at him with tearful eyes, she said, "You're sure that there is still a way?"

"I always find a way, Claire."

She sighed with relief and rested against him. For one of the first times since she had first joined him, he spoke with complete sincerity.


	21. Beautiful

21. **Beautiful**

When Claire cradles the baby in her arms, she croons lullabies and rocks back and forth for hours on end, unaware that the sun has long set and the fire's crackling weakly. At times, Locke nearly forgets that she caresses nothing more than a button-eyed boar skull wrapped in blankets.

She brushes a tuft of fur back so the buttons can peer up at Locke. "Isn't he precious?"

"...He's beautiful."


	22. Rest

22. **Rest**

Sometimes Claire tossed and turned all night, groaning as she shifted to a more comfortable position. Occasionally Locke awoke to see her whispering to the boar skull and he assumed that nightmares of some sort must have driven her to find whatever comfort she could in the replacement for her baby, but still couldn't figure out just what was keeping her up. Finally, he couldn't help but remark, "You look exhausted."

Rubbing at the dark circles under her eyes, Claire grimaced. "Yeah."

"Rough night, huh?"

"You noticed? Honestly, I don't understand how you sleep through it. I'm glad you do, though. I'd feel terrible if it woke you up, too." She bent over and scooped up the makeshift baby up in her arms. "Good morning, Aaron!"

John's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What is it that I'm supposed to be waking up to?"

"Aaron, silly!" Rocking the baby back and forth, she smiled down at it and said, "This little guy has a pair of lungs on him!"

At first, John's lips parted in shock, and he feared that she meant it literally. But, peering into the mass of blankets, he sighed in relief with the knowledge that at least she hadn't gone that far. Still, as he watched her murmur to the skull, "You don't have to cry, Mommy's here," he surprised himself with a shudder.


	23. Listen

23. **Listen**

"Who are you?"

He winced, regretting his carelessly loud footsteps. He recognized the voice at once, even if he had never seen her face-to-face. _There's a first time for everything. _At the _click_ of a reloaded gun, Jacob lifted his hands and turned around slowly. Though he had no reason to fear for his life, there was no telling how that fragile state of mind might snap if she were to shoot, only to watch him stumble and promptly get back on his feet. And what a fragile state of mind she was in…. Having overlooked her lately, Jacob's heart sank at how her condition had deteriorated, from what he could tell just from seeing her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I said, who _are_ you?"

"My name is Jacob."

He didn't avoid the truth because he expected that the name meant nothing to her. If it had, once, now she only studied his face with eyes jumping like Ben's rabbits and then lowered the gun. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here."

"This is my camp!"

"I love on the Island, I mean. I'm just gathering food."

"You were watching me. I saw you." Her voice tremored desperately, as if she was trying to convince even herself.

"Are you sure you're not mistaken? I'm just passing through." As much as he hated to make this troubled woman doubt herself even more, it would have been far worse to let her know that he _had_ intended to spy on her before glimpsing his brother lurking about in the shadows.

"Well…. It could have been a trick of the light, I suppose. Sometimes…." She dropped her gaze, suddenly fascinated with the rocks at Jacob's feet. "Anyway, you'd better go."

He sighed, shoulders heaving, with the knowledge that leaving would only abandon her to Esau again. Still, there was nothing to be done. Maybe, though, if he could just tell her—

"Ah, Jacob. Dropping in for a visit?"

His mind raced so quickly that, though he'd opened his mouth, he was unable to grasp a proper excuse for his presence at the camp.

When John Locke smiled, it pained Jacob to remember that the face had once belonged to perhaps his greatest candidate. "I don't think it's right of you to spy on Claire like that." Her eyes widened, and Locke continued, "You shouldn't have come."

Glancing up at Locke, Claire's mouth hung open in shock and anger, and Locke gestured to her as if giving permission. She quickly walked over to him, looping one arm in his and standing behind him for protection. "You're right," Jacob said. "I'll be on my way."

As he left the camp, he reflected on past candidates, remembering how there were always a few that never did find their way on the Island. One or two in every group was bound to lose themselves to an even greater extent than before their time on the Island. Those who ended up like Claire, they were the ones that made him wonder if proving his point was even worth it.


	24. Haze

24. **Haze**

Jacob stood to his feet in one swift motion. "Who are you?" he demanded, backing away so quickly that he nearly fell over.

"I'm your brother." Suddenly Esau's face morphed into that of their mother, and then the other woman, the crazy one who had raised them. "You don't recognize me?"

Shaking his head, Jacob stepped away and said, "That's impossible. My brother is dead. What are you?"

"Lower your voice, brother." Esau placed a finger to his lips.

"Don't call me that."

Then Esau began to switch bodies faster than Jacob could make out what they were; he shifted between forms as if shuffling a deck of cards, a blur before Jacob's eyes. Finally Esau settled again on that of his old self and, staring into Jacob's wide eyes, he said, "That light changed me, but it didn't destroy me."

Jacob was both stunned into silence and too distrustful of his own voice to reply. Finally, he said, "You're—you can't be—"

His eyes rolled back in his head, reminding Esau briefly of the time Jacob fainted from illness as a child, and quickly Esau reached out to catch Jacob's body before it tumbled to the ground. Smirking just slightly, Esau carried Jacob to his camp and lay him down on a mat, waiting for him to awaken. Esau studied Jacob's face, the slackened muscles of the jaw and forehead, and wondered when he had last seen Jacob so relaxed. They had both been punished, at least, by Jacob's impulsive actions.

Suddenly he jerked up into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes so violently that his trembling hands left red marks. "Tell me who you are!"

I'm not lying, Jacob. I'm not like Mother."

Apparently Jacob did believe him now, or else had forgotten to argue and instinctively defended the deceptive witch. Thrusting a finger at Esau accusingly, he said, "Don't bring her into this. You don't know her like I did."

Folding his arms, Esau chuckled to himself, and looked up to see Jacob glaring at him. "What?"

"You think this is a joke?"

"I think it's pathetic," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "She liked me better, and we both know it." When he saw Jacob's fist clenched in shocked anger, he continued, "You can try to hurt me again, but there's nothing you can do now, not anymore."


	25. Nightmare

25. **Nightmare**

Clutching the side of his face, Jacob twisted away in an attempt to escape. But his knees buckled beneath him, and the sand rushed up to meet his face as he collapsed on the beach. Red lines striped his hand as he drew it away from his face to support his attempt to stand again, and he inhaled harshly when a heel slammed into his back, plunging him into a mouthful of sand. His chest heaved as he choked against it and whimpered slightly like an animal crying for rescue from some predator.

"You can't kill me," he gasped, fingers curling to clench grains of sand like Esau clenched his teeth whenever Jacob said anything at all.

Glaring at his fallen brother, Esau flushed with rage and stomped on the pale fingers. "I don't want to kill you, Jacob." The most brazen lie he could utter, but the boy would never know. He probably couldn't hear anyway with that ear-splitting moan, the rushed breath, the strangled sob.

"Please…just leave me alone." The shameless begging made Esau's blood boil; he would forever wonder why Mother even bothered to settle for placing this child in charge of anything at all. "I did nothing—"

"Nothing _today_, Jacob. Nothing yet."

"I was outside, walking—that's all—"

"Don't try to hide it! You're bringing more people here, aren't you. I saw you planning it."

"All right, all right, maybe I just wanted to try it again. But they're—"

"I never said you could get up!" Shifting into the monster, he wrapped around Jacob and thrust him into the ocean like a discarded plaything.

His face stung fiercely where Esau had punched him, and Jacob sputtered up blood and water, desperately shoving against the current as it tried to swallow him. His arms throbbed as he threw all of his strength into just keeping his head above the water, and he wondered, _could_ he drown? It didn't seem possible. But the Island had always worked like that, taking the possible and turning it inside-out until he couldn't begin to guess the outcome. When it came down to betting on the Island, that made him long for the shore more than ever.

Esau watched his brother flail, hopelessly struggling against powers beyond the both of them. Though Jacob couldn't suspect it, Esau was asking himself the same question. If some way existed for the Island's protector to use that power to keep themselves from dying in any way, Jacob clearly didn't know it yet. And when a full minute passed, and Jacob's head was still under water, Esau decided that if he had to be trapped on the damn Island, he didn't want to be alone, either. Not when he didn't have the slightest idea how to leave yet.

In his smoke form, he plummeted towards the waves where Jacob had slipped under, and dove in with his old body. Wrapping an arm around Jacob, who didn't fight or even move anymore, Esau dragged him to the surface. He was stronger now, with the monster, even when he didn't take its shape, and he summoned every ounce of the strength Jacob had so kindly given him in order to save Jacob.

Before, Esau was always the one who had to step in and save his neck, either from Mother when she was unhappy with him or once when the humans discovered Jacob spying on them. When he lay outstretched on the beach, wet skin gleaming in the sun against the pale sand, he looked so hardly different from a child—Esau perched over him, calling his name, like when he wanted to wake Jacob from a nightmare. Things had changed so much since that time, and yet here they were again, Esau guarding his brother as his brother guarded the Island.


	26. Inert

26. **Inert**

**AN: Maybe not for the faint of heart?**

Once, little Jacob awoke in the dead of night to a peculiar sort of cry, one like no other he had ever heard before, and his ears perked with curiosity. The second time he heard it, the sound rose in pitch to a strangled wail. Surely Mother hadn't allowed some animal to roam so near the camp?

Then, after a sudden hush, Jacob heard nothing else. Fighting the instinctive urge to pull to the covers over his head, he instead sat up and swung his feet over so that they hovered over the ground. Willing the wood of the cot below him not to creak, he slid off inch by inch, fear clutching his stomach. Mother told him never to wander at night, but the questions, and the promise of what might be, threatened to overwhelm him. Besides, if she caught him outside the camp, the slight pressure on his bladder would lend him the excuse of needing to relieve himself.

Jacob froze when he heard a sharp intake of breath from the direction of the cries. Glancing down, he saw that his hands shook, and he narrowed his eyes to concentrate on steadying himself. Shaking his head, Jacob could almost hear his brother laughing at him for such a display of fear. You're always scared, Esau would have said, afraid to explore or push the boundaries Mother set… Well, Jacob decided, that wasn't true anymore. He wouldn't let fear control him for one more minute, and he could at least prove it to himself, if no one else, before the sun rose. If it were an animal, well, he would kill it and bring it back to camp, and everyone would eat it in the morning and compliment him on hunting so bravely in the middle of the night!

Smiling at the idea, Jacob tiptoed around the trees, drawn to the source of the sound as if to a magnet. He peered through the darkness and focused on the shapes in the distance. Then, just past the stream that bordered their camp, he recognized the two shapes and gasped aloud.

Instantly his mother stopped the thrusting and her shot up from where it hung over the dark-haired son. In contrast, Esau's head lolled to one side. He slumped as though all the strength had been sapped from the small body, even tinier compared to the adult one suspended over it. There was that fear again, creeping up on Jacob—he felt it in the blood that drained from his face. Was Esau hurt? Then he lifted his head, only to drop it again seconds later.

Jaw hanging open, their mother uttered an incomprehensible syllable in an attempt to speak, and blinked rapidly before recovering herself. "Go back to bed, Jacob. Right now." Her voice shook like his hands again, and he hated that like the sight before his wide eyes. He loathed it like the bile that rose in his throat as he turned and fled. Only barely did he reach the camp before he kneeled over and vomited like a sick child.

After cleaning himself up as best he could, Jacob lay awake in bed and wondered why _he'd_ never been asked to do whatever that was—why she'd even hid it from him, angry that he'd seen! Somehow he must have displeased her earlier. The secrecy was punishment for some disobedience that he could not even recall. He imagined Brother howling with laughter, taunting him, mimicking his fear.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jacob fought to forget the image of the two as cold, clammy beads of sweat slid down his forehead. He buried his head into the pillow to block out the moans that echoed in his ear and trembled like his small body, more frightened than ever.


	27. Fighting

27. **Fighting**

"Jacob."

"Brother."

Esau nodded back and sat down opposite the blonde, but remained silent. Gesturing to the senet board, Jacob said, "Make your move."

Suddenly a cry pierced the air, and Jacob stood up nervously. "What's that, Brother?"

"It's just Hanna." Esau rolled his eyes and wished that his brother would sit back down. "We're all sick of her complaining. Her parents have arranged a partnership and she's been fighting it for days, that's all."

Still standing, Jacob's eyes followed the wailing girl as a bearded man half-dragged her out of the tent. "Partnership? What do you mean?"

"Remember when I showed you the human ritual, the one I said not to tell Mother about?"

Jacob's brow knit in confused desperation as he watched the scene unfolding a few yards away from them. "Y-yes."

"These men and women have children that way. It's how these people keep from dying off, and it's how you and I were born. That man is the chief, and he wants that woman to help him with that. Now can you just—"

"That's not a woman, Brother. Mother is a woman." Jacob spoke slowly, as if he were just beginning to see the difference. "That's only a child, and he's twice her size. Won't it hurt her?"

Bewildered, Esau shrugged. "I don't know." Naturally, he could not explain the only thing Jacob wanted to know.

As the girl's screeches rose in volume, other men started to gather, and Jacob nodded in relief. "They'll help her."

Before Esau could warn his brother, the other men started to jeer. Some pointed and laughed; others encouraged their leader, calling out raucous suggestions. Jacob stared. "Why are they doing this?"

Esau's transition to the human way of life had been almost seamless, as if he were born for it—after all, he belonged among them—but Jacob did not. Outside of the Island, or even just his mother's care, Esau doubted that Jacob could exist at all. "I told you these men are bad, Jacob. They don't care about the girl. Mother was right about them."

It made Esau's skin crawl, to see Jacob faced with real pain like this. His eyes roamed anxiously at the scene before them, and Esau could almost see the wheels turning in Jacob's head.


	28. Leave

28. **Leave **(continuation of the last)

Jacob glanced at Esau for a moment, as if asking for permission. "Don't get involved." But Jacob pushed past the bystanders, who either stared in shock or chuckled to one another. Esau called after his brother, "You can't fight him, Jacob!"

Striding forward with his shoulders squared and head high with imagined authority, Jacob approached the chief. As the beast of a man cocked his head incredulously to one side, Jacob shoved him away from the girl with all the strength he could muster. "Leave her alone."

The chief's mouth twisted into a half-smile. Then he burst into laughter, bellowing so heartily that his stomach shook with mirth, and the other men backed away so that they circled the two. Esau leapt to his feet as Jacob glared at the laughing chief, but couldn't reach them before one meaty fist swooped from underneath and slammed into Jacob's jaw.

Esau winced at the resounding _crack_, and Jacob stumbled backwards, holding the wounded bone. The chief swung at Jacob's head with two hundred pounds of force and roared with laughter as Jacob thudded on the hard-packed dirt. As Jacob groaned and rolled to one side, Esau broke through the crowd and ran in front of his brother, hands raised in surrender. "He doesn't understand. I should have held him back."

"What do you propose we do with him, then?"

Walking in front of his brother, Esau said, "Give me his punishment." Jacob could never withstand it, and as much as he hated Mother, he couldn't send Jacob back to her bleeding and weeping.

The chief pursed his lips, considering the proposition. "Fine. But do not let this happen again."

Esau nodded frantically and then whirled around to pull Jacob off the ground. Fixing him with a stare that brooked no room for argument, Esau told him, "Get out of here, and don't come back."

Jacob's eyes darted between the two men before he turned and shuffled away. He gritted his teeth teeth as pain jolted through his head. As much as he hated himself for it, Jacob didn't want to be anywhere close enough to hear Esau undergoing whatever punishment he had just volunteered for.


	29. Classic

29. **Classic **(conclusion of the last)

With the sunrise of the following morning, Jacob left his mother with the hopes of seeing Esau among the humans. He's probably fine, Jacob told himself, because Esau always came out fine, and he'd left Mother to live for thirty years with the humans, so he could do anything. But Jacob still needed to glimpse Esau from a distance, even if entering the settlement right then would be bad. Luckily, Jacob found Esau before even reaching the village. His eyes lit up when he saw Esau at the river, although he quickly grew concerned at the sight before him.

Bent over the river, Esau cupped his hands and splashed his face with water. Jacob ran up behind him and slowly gazed up and down the red stripes that crisscrossed his brother's back, wondering how they had come to be. "Brother?"

At the sound of Jacob's voice, Esau jerked around to look at the blonde before turning back to the river. "You weren't supposed to see that."

In disbelief, Jacob knelt beside his brother and traced the wounds in the air with a hand that just barely hovered over Esau's back. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I know."

Even in pain, Esau remembered to console him. Pressing his lips together, Jacob turned his head, hoping Esau would not see the tears that rimmed the edges of his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Brother. This is all my fault."

"Yeah, I know."

The corner of Jacob's mouth turned up in a rueful smile, but it soon faded. He slipped his pale fingers into the firm grasp of Esau's hand. "How did they do this?" For Jacob had never seen a whip or witnessed a lashing before, Mother be with him if he ever did.

For the first time in many weeks, Esau chuckled, and Jacob did not understand it. People did not laugh when they were in pain. Usually, they cried, and then Jacob had to fight not to cry too, even if he was just watching them in the village from a distance. "They tied me to a tree—" Esau held up his free hand, showing Jacob the rash on his wrists—"and hit my back with something like a rope, twenty times."

Speechless, Jacob swallowed and tightened his grip on Esau's hand, clinging to him. The thought was too painful to dwell on. When Jacob found the words, he said in a quiet voice, "Hanna?"

Before Esau even opened his mouth, Jacob recognized that look, the one in Esau's eyes when he didn't want to say what he was thinking. Jacob knew it at once when they flickered to the side for an instant and then returned, but narrowed just a little, to hold Jacob's gaze. "She was…punished."

"What? Why? It was my fault!"

"Take it up with the chief." Wincing as he stood up, Esau gasped as his back throbbed. "Or not."

"Wait! What did—what did they do to her?"

Esau shook his head. "Ask me some other time."

As Esau disappeared behind the trees, Jacob bent over the river where Esau had been sitting and wept. He swore aloud that never again would he interfere with the humans, knowing now that it would only bring about more pain. He thought that if Mother were there, she would have run her fingers through his hair and hummed soothingly and then told him it was just because he was good, and good did not mix with bad, and that would only cause trouble. But Jacob didn't think that could have caused it, because Hanna didn't have a trace of bad in her. He knew it just by looking, and if he was good then surely he could recognize others like him. Maybe he wasn't as good as he thought he was. Maybe he needed to go home and let Mother run her fingers through his hair and explain it all away.


	30. Strange

30. **Strange**

** AN: Many thanks to the anonymous reviewer who requested that the admins make a Man in Black category! Finally I can put this where it belongs. Thank you for the encouraging review, as well!

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**In retrospect, Esau supposed that he should have warned Jacob about them. After all, even Esau was shocked to discover this whole new aspect to the world of which, naturally, Mother told them nothing. And with Jacob spending even more years in the dark about it, well, it would have been only fair to prepare him. But Esau had left out the part about 'women' in of his descriptions of village life, hoping that somehow Jacob would never meet one and no explanation would be necessary. Unfortunately, Esau didn't succeed in keeping his brother in the dark for long.

"Who's that?" Jacob whispered, and Esau whirled around so quickly that he nearly overturned the senet board, fearing that one of the men had spotted Jacob.

Instead, Esau saw only Anya skipping towards them. "Who is your friend?" she called, stopping a few yards from Jacob as if afraid of him.

Though Esau's first reaction was to sigh in relief that he had not been discovered by someone more dangerous, it occurred to him when he noticed Jacob's transfixed stare that perhaps this should worry him just as much. "This is my brother. He lives alone, in the jungle."

"Alone?" A faint smile curved her lips. "He must be very strong, to brave these jungles by himself." She strutted over to Jacob, whose eyes had followed her as though studying a wild animal until she actually approached him. "What's your name?"

Lowering his gaze, he said, "I…uh…I'm Jacob."

"Hmm." Then she grinned. "I like you. I can tell you're different from the others." _She's right about that_, Esau scoffed to himself, watching Jacob squirm like that.

To make matters worse, Anya wore little more than animal skin that covered only what it had to. That was typical for the women of the village, and Esau had long been accustomed to it, but Jacob actually flinched when she ruffled his soft blonde hair with her fingers. Esau wanted to swat them away. "You think I'm different?" Jacob choked out.

"Very." The blood drained from his face when she kneeled so that her face hovered only inches away from his. "Haven't you ever seen a woman before?"

He shook his head, clearly not trusting his voice, or maybe he just couldn't bring himself to speak the lie. Then again, Esau thought, Jacob had really only seen his mother before, and that was an entirely different matter from this new being. Giggling, Anya said, "Really? You must be joking." She glanced up at Esau, whose jaw was considerably set harder than when she last looked at him, and he shook his head. "I can't imagine how lonely you must be!" she exclaimed.

Before Jacob could answer, or at least try to stammer back some acceptable response, Esau stood and flashed Jacob a look that said he'd better follow. "I hate to leave, but we have to get going. It's getting late, and we've got to get the traps."

"Right." She grinned and bit her lip mischievously. "I hope we meet again, Jacob."


	31. Fake

31. **Fake **(continuation of the last)

"Why did you tell her I lived alone?"

With a shrug, Esau replied, "I thought you would want to keep Mother safe from my people."

"Anya wouldn't hurt her." Esau wanted to groan at the sight of Jacob's wide blue eyes, especially when he continued, "Why did you tell her we had to leave?"

"Because we needed to leave. Dinner will hardly cook itself."

"_You _needed to leave. You could have finished without me. Just a few more minutes wouldn't hurt."

"Oh yes, it would."

Face flushed, Jacob insisted, "She's different from the others."

"They're all the same. I forbid you to talk to her again, and for that matter, don't talk to any of my people. Not unless you're prepared to leave Mother and live with us." Barely glancing at his brother, Esau strode past him into the village, where Jacob could not follow him to argue further.

Shaking his head, Jacob told himself, _Esau's wrong about them. _And more than anything, wrong about Anya, something that Jacob decided then to prove. Maybe not to Esau, who would be furious if he found out that Jacob disobeyed him, but at least to himself.

"Jacob?"

He spun around to see Anya tiptoeing out from behind a tree. "I was hoping he'd leave. I don't think he likes me."

Why do you say that?"

"He doesn't talk to me back home. But that's alright. You seem nice."

Jacob smiled, and his mind raced with ideas of a distraction with which he could delay Anya's return to her people. "Hey, do you want to play a game?"

She clapped with excitement. "Sure!"

"Follow me back to my camp. It's called senet, and I play it with my brother sometimes." He knew that his mother was out, and with any luck, she wouldn't return until nightfall.

Over the next few months, they continued to meet, taking care that no one else would be around. More than anything, Jacob hoped that if Esau did ever suspect that anything had continued with Anya, he would ask her about it rather than Jacob, who doubted his ability to ever learn the mechanics of lying even if it was intended to protect her.

One night, she invited him to the beach, grinning from ear to ear. Of all the traits Jacob loved so much about her, it was her joyful spirit, no matter the hardships of village life, and her infectious energy always cheered him up. "What is it?" he said, but she insisted that it had to be a surprise. When he asked why they were going to the beach, she told him she wanted to get far away from his people's territory, and then refused to say anything more until they arrived.

There, the moon glistened on the crests of the waves, and she showed him something even more beautiful than that, something that Esau had taught him a little of—lips on lips, hands in various places—but always so rough, so rushed, and so different from a woman. Where Esau's fingers were calloused and dirty, hers were long and willowy, and as dark as the sky. With them she guided Jacob patiently, his ignorance amusing her where it frustrated his brother.

As Jacob returned to his camp, trembling even after they had parted, Mother sat in front of the crackling fire. The sun had set hours ago, yet she sat awake, eyes boring into the flames. The moment he walked within sight, she fixed him with a long, hard stare and the cold demand, "Where have you been?"

His eyes slid from hers to the night sky. "Could you not sleep, Mother?"

"Of course not! Knowing you were with that _girl_—" She spat the word and reached for a stick to stoke the flames higher. "Have you decided like your brother, now, to cast me off, forget everything I've done for you?"

He shook his head quickly. "Of course not, Mother. I would never choose her over you."

"You've already chosen." When he licked his lips and opened his mouth to protest, she continued, "You love that girl, rather than the one who raised you, took care of you. Oh, I've suspected for some time, with your meetings under the cover of darkness, thinking you could hide from me, but what you have done tonight is beyond—"

"Why are you saying this, Mother?"

Her voice rang with the authority of one who pronounces judgment. "You have become one with a woman from the village. You have abandoned everything that I have taught you, and so you have left me as well."

"I would never leave you!" He ran to her side, where he reached out to embrace her, and she slapped him. His head jerked back from the impact. His heart sank further and he saw that her lip quivered with anger, or worse, sadness, and the sight of his mother only barely controlling either of those pained him more than anything else.

Suddenly the tears rimming her eyes spilled over and she collapsed into his arms, weeping. "I love you so much, Jacob." Closing his eyes, he threaded his fingers through the tangled mass of hair as her head rested in the crook of his neck. "You can never take this back, but promise me that you will never again betray me."

"I won't, Mother." Now he was crying, too, and desperately trying to reassure her that it was all a mistake, a horrible mistake.


	32. Animal

32. **Animal **(conclusion of the last)

**AN: This is a bit AU.

* * *

**

"Jacob, wake up."

Rubbing his eyes, Jacob rolled over to stare up at the face he hadn't seen in many moons. "Where have you been?" Then he frowned. "Is something wrong? You look worried."

When Anya grimaced, his heart sank to see such a troubled expression instead of the wry smile she so often wore. "I have…something to show you."

Then his mother awoke, glancing from one to the other. "Who is this?"

Surely she already knew the answer to the question. A thousand responses racing through his mind as Jacob tried to think of a suitable one. Finally he said, "My friend," and wanted to flinch when Anya looked down in disappointment that she had been reduced to that in the presence of the Mother. "I'll tell you everything when I return. Can I go with her, Mother?"

"Of course not! I want you to tell me exactly what is going on this instant. You know that I have forbidden you to see her!"

Anya's eyes widened nervously and she stepped away from Jacob's mother. "Please," she begged, "let him come with me. His brother will kill me if I try to hurt him."

For an entire minute, the Mother stared into Anya's face, studying her for some trace of deceit. Apparently satisfied, she sighed and said, "Be back as soon as you can, Jacob."

Jacob stood up and walked after her as she navigated through the endless forest, and he wondered where she could be taking him. Long ago he had memorized the path to his brother's village, having walked it so many times that he could probably find it blindfolded, so he knew that she could not be leading him that way. They were not headed toward the beach, either. Soon, though, he recognized the path to the river, and narrowed his eyes in confusion when he heard a sharp cry. "What is that?"

With a sigh, she gestured with one finger for him to follow as before. Obedient as usual, Jacob continued until they reached the foot of the river, where Esau sat on a rock holding a tiny form wrapped in a blanket. "What is that?" he echoed, quieter this time as he watched it squirm.

"She's a _who_, Jacob. She's our daughter."

In shock, Jacob lifted a hand to his temple and looked from her to his brother, but couldn't quite look at the child. Mother had said—she said that good and bad could not mix, and the people were bad, and he was good, so—this could not be possible. And yet it was unfolding before his eyes, waving its arms in the blanket and crying out again.

"Esau told me to kill her, and my family wants her gone. I'm not married—no one has wanted me since I got pregnant." Her voice rose in desperation. "They told me to take herbs to put her down like some kind of animal, but I begged them to let her live because I said there was a man who would take her. And raise her."

Only now, in the light of the rising sun, could Jacob see the red lines streaking her cheek. His heart ached with pity and fear as he whispered, "You think_ I_ can raise her?"

"Of course you can. You're the only one who can. Do you live with that woman, the one at the camp?" When Jacob nodded, she sighed, both relieved and wistful. "Ilana will have a mother and a father."

She embraced him, and with his head over her shoulder, he locked eyes with Esau, who gestured at the baby and mouthed the words _You're screwed_. Jacob couldn't help but smile.


	33. Need

32. ******Need **(conclusion of the last)

**AN: I couldn't stop wondering if maybe Esau could ever love anybody, and more importantly, _why. _These next couple prompts are the result of much consideration...**

**

* * *

**

Plenty of beautiful women had passed through the Island over the course of the years, free for the taking, ripe for the picking. By now, he'd long honed the skills of persuasion, even in eras when neither the men nor women would ever serve as useful weapons against Jacob, and after a time he could have any kind of woman imaginable. Even if one wasn't interested, another just couldn't resist him, or else rape proved an amusing distraction too.

So he wasn't exactly captivated by her white-as-sand skin, or her height, though she must have been at least six feet tall. Sometimes the wind combed through the wavy black hair in a pleasing way, but he'd seen that a thousand times, and her hair was forever mussed anyway. No, it wasn't that. But still, none of the other women fascinated him quite like Sara. In a way, she reminded him of Jacob, forever clutching to the imagined concept of the good within everyone. But she never _told_ Esau that, even though they talked for hours sometimes on the edge of the beach. He recognized it in the way she stumbled over a lie and then admitted to the truth five minutes later, or listened to him on the days when he ranted about Jacob and then nodded like she had any idea what he was talking about.

Those were just additions, though, to the real reason he kept her around. She talked about things that none of the others did, plans to harness the water and power machinery with it. Apparently everyone around her home called her crazy, but shipwrecking on the Island hadn't stopped her from tweaking and improving her plans, sometimes for hours each day.

"What's that?" he asked so many times, pointing to another sketch.

Her face would light up as she proceeded to lay out the next phase of her plan, explaining words like "turbine" and "rotor" and how they just might be able to produce electricity.

He visited her only in his original form. Once, Sara embraced him and thanked him for listening to her, and he laughed and said he didn't understand half of what she said, but she insisted that no one else understood anything at all.

Then he realized that he had laughed. Not often did he hear that sound, and never from himself. After that, he wasn't just keeping her around anymore. She was brilliance and she was laughter, two things he rarely saw anymore and didn't want to be without. He thought that maybe he was beginning to understand one of the even stranger ideas she sometimes spoke of, "love," and realized that what began as toleration on his part had become _need_.


	34. Elusive

34. **Elusive **(continuation of the last)

"What's that?"

Frowning, Sara stuck the paper in a thick notebook and slammed the cover shut. "It's nowhere near ready."

Her response had caught him off guard. Normally, she jumped at the chance to show him her work. "Something wrong?"

"I…can't finish this."

He blinked in surprise. "What? Is there some resource you need that can't be found here, or—"

"No, it's not that. We're leaving."

She dropped her head, hair slipping forward so that it hid her face. Shocked, Esau sat back and stared, _knowing_ that she was mistaken. Surely she spoke out of ignorance; Jacob would never allow these people to leave. He never did. Esau lifted her head gently, one finger under her chin. "You can't finish this at home?"

"Women are not permitted to do work like this. They say it's too dangerous for us. It is true that some people are hurt if they miscalculate or make some error, but this—" She thumped the cover of the notebook, "—does not have a single mistake. I know that it would work. I have a few more things to finish, but I _know _I have the essentials. And now, all this work is for nothing."

Esau remembered his own devastation at the realization that Mother had destroyed the well that he and the men labored for months on. "How are your people leaving?"

"A few weeks ago we fixed the little boats and sent out scouts. They returned saying they'd found another ship out there and it's coming back to rescue us all."

_No, you can't leave_. Desperately his mind raced and his first impulse was to grab her by the shoulders and shake the thought of leaving out of her, but he knew that was foolish. He wanted to storm Jacob's lair, demand to know why this was being allowed, this great injustice, that so many should be tied down to the Island no matter their efforts to leave and yet these people were slipping right out of his fingers. Weren't there candidates among them? Jacob wouldn't have brought them if there weren't.

Before he could piece together a proper reply, she whispered, "And I'm worried I…could be pregnant." In a voice so soft that he could not hear without leaning in, she continued, "My husband is waiting for me at home. I could never face him if…if…."

He laughed, a hollow sound that made her shiver. Then he cursed himself for the tactless response and drew her close to him hesitantly, reverently, remembering the fragile nature of humans. Her free arm now covered her eyes to hide tears, and a stubborn tear clung to his own cheek. He brushed it away with the other hand and gently circled her wrist with his fingertips, lowering her arm so that they faced one another. "Did one of the doctors tell you that?" She nodded, a brown strand of hair slipping down to graze his hand. "They're wrong. It's not possible."

Her body stiffened against his. "I don't understand."

_Neither do I. _But all logic dictated that he was in no way compatible with any human, not being human himself. "No one can explain it, but I promise, you don't need to worry about it. You cannot be pregnant."

She sighed, and he hoped out of relief. Then she collapsed against him, the side of her head on his shoulder. "Still, I don't want to leave yet. I was so lonely when we came here, I would have given anything to leave, but not anymore…."

Years ago he had learned that she stumbled over showing affection almost as much as he did, but he understood what she wanted to say. But _he_ was determined to say it before time ran out, if indeed their days were numbered now, Jacob be damned. "I love you, Sara,"—he kissed her forehead, then her cheek, and the corner of her mouth—"and every time I see another ship on the horizon, I'll pray that it is yours, returning here, where it belongs."

Her lips pressed together in a halfhearted attempt to smile. That night they made love as though the cover of darkness was made for only that and then lay in each other's arms, sweating in the sticky air, whispering to one another. Esau did not laugh after that; every moment with Sara was poisoned with the danger that it could be their last together.


	35. Soon

35. **Soon **(continuation of the last)

As he straightened against the rocking chair, Jacob's eyes flickered to the shadow that protruded from the hallway. "Yes?"

Esau slowly entered the main room, running a hand along the carved shapes on the wall. "You know why I am here."

"Yes."

"I'm asking you to keep her here."

"It's her choice."

Jacob's apathy grated on Esau's nerves, and the fingers of his right hand curled into a fist. "All of her people are leaving! How is that a choice?"

Spreading his hands out in hopelessness, Jacob offered one of those wide, puppy-eyed looks. "The only candidates among them have died. There's no other reason to keep them here when the rest of them want to—"

"Don't give me that! It wouldn't be the first time you've done it. Hell, make _her_ a candidate. She doesn't want to leave, but if all her people go…" For the first time he could remember, Esau couldn't speak the rest of the sentence, not in front of Jacob. Not while those heavy-lidded eyes gazed at him as if it meant nothing.

But, to Esau's satisfaction, he noticed Jacob's brow furrow in deep thought, a sea of creases lining his forehead as he lowered his gaze. At least now, he seemed to take Esau seriously and consider the suggestion. He bowed his head for a moment. Looking up again, he spoke hesitantly, the old uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I'm sorry, Brother, but it's not possible."

Disgusted, Esau spat on the ground by Jacob's damn rocking chair and paced back and forth. "You've taken everything else—why her, too?"


	36. Ashes

36. **Ashes **(conclusion of the last)

Jacob bit his lip and sat back in silence when Esau raged, hurling nearby objects around the room and once at Jacob's own head. He couldn't meet Esau's eyes, just stared blankly into the fire, knowing that he had just destroyed Esau again and there was no pleasure in it at all. For now, Jacob could only wait out the storm and appear as calm as possible.

It wasn't easy. Esau attacked him with the harshest words that the humans knew of, and Jacob gripped the arms of his chair so hard that it hurt, and swallowed back the pain that he knew Esau felt tenfold. Esau said that he that wanted to see Jacob in that fire, nothing more than a pile of ashes, and when had Jacob become so cruel, to not only the humans but his own brother. Jacob couldn't reply, he had no answer, just as Mother had no real answers when it mattered most.


	37. Excite

37. **Excite**

** Warning: a little slashy.**

While Esau considered the bond he had with his brother to have surpassed the petty relationships of the others, he had observed the way that other humans interacted with one another. Eventually, he realized with dismay that he and Jacob had not actually learned a practice that so many of the human couples, or friends, performed on an almost weekly basis if not more often. For all their obsession with it, he assumed it must be pretty exciting.

A few times, he had even been approached about participating in these acts, but he understood that he would be the only inexperienced one among them. Unwilling to appear foolish in front of the unforgiving humans, he wanted to explore this new aspect of humanity with one that knew even less about it than he, one who would be learning along with him.

Esau traced the faded scar on Jacob's shoulder, recalling the day an outsider's arrow had pierced him there at twenty-seven when they saw the blonde spying on the camp. Though Esau had long abandoned his old family by that time, he furiously informed the men that the next to even touch Jacob would be killed at once.

Then Esau took the pale hand in his, lowering his lips to kiss each fingertip until arriving at the rough one. Lingering there, he lifted his eyes questioningly, and Jacob half-smiled. "I pricked it earlier—" His breath caught, and the rest of the response was lost as Esau turned the hand over and licked along the knuckles.

There, he circled the largest bump with his tongue, and remembered the horrible crack as it broke when Jacob punched a wooden board. Then Esau raised his head and kissed Jacob on the mouth, closing his eyes at the dizziness that rushed through him. At Jacob's sudden gasp, Esau's eyes flew open and he drew away, staring at a crack in Jacob's lower lip. "That one's new."

"It's nothing."

"How did it happen?"

"I don't remember."

Lowering his voice, Jacob spoke so softly that Esau strained to hear. "What are we doing?"

"Just something I've picked up from the humans. Do you want to stop?" Esau's eyes searched Jacob's face as he prayed that the answer would be not be the timid _yes_ that he almost expected, and dreaded.

A moment of hesitation—then, a half-breathed whisper, "No."


	38. Meant No Harm

38. **Meant No Harm**

"Come here."

The swirling cloud of smoke halted on its course through the jungle, snaking around to look at Jacob. When he gestured for it to approach, it hovered closer. It clicked and hissed impatiently, in the language of sounds developed from the lack of a voice, demanding wordlessly that Jacob state his business quickly.

"I want to help you."

The smoke withdrew, recoiling in hesitation as Jacob stepped forward with an outstretched hand. He grimaced at the twinge of regret in his chest as he watched his brother. "What is it?"

Usually the monster was more angry than scared, but Jacob stood just outside of the pool that led to the mysterious light. While Esau feared little, he knew full well to steer clear of its devastating power. Glancing over his shoulder, Jacob realized why the smoke retreated, and he shuffled closer to the trees. "Come here, Brother."

The black smoke flew over and surrounded him, clouding his vision. Coughing as the smoke filled his lungs, Jacob squeezed his eyes shut and stretched his hand out in the black void.

Suddenly the mass of smoke began to shrink again, this time into the shape of a human. For a moment, it flashed before Jacob's eyes, flickering with uncertainty, until finally it settled into Esau's familiar form. Immediately he fell to his knees.

At first, Jacob's breath caught in amazement, and then a grin spread across his face. Hastily he grabbed Esau by the wrist and pulled him to his feet to embrace him. "I missed you."

Esau fumbled to recover the idea of limbs, working the fingers that lay at his side as Jacob nearly crushed him in the hold. Then he shoved his brother away, forehead creased with incredulity. "What are you doing?"

"I…" Jacob's mouth hung open, and his arms hung expectantly in the air as if he thought Esau would forget their differences and return the gesture. "It's a gift, Brother."

The ground spun before Esau's eyes, and he meant to touch his head just to steady his vision. Instead, he overestimated the force necessary to move his stiff hands, and accidently slapped the side of his face. He blinked, momentarily stunned, and furious at the mistake. He clenched the fist and refocused, glaring at Jacob. When he opened his mouth to speak, the words were stuck in his throat, and he could not quite remember how to force them out. He didn't want to risk uttering some stupid noise and embarrassing himself further.

"Brother?" As Jacob walked closer to his twin, Esau backed away, and Jacob swallowed the lump as it rose in his throat. He noticed how quickly he breathed and made a conscious effort to slow it down. Esau was back in his form, as Jacob had desperately hoped he would be, but something was wrong. Jacob felt strangely hollow inside, like somehow his brother wasn't all there. "It worked, right?"

"This doesn't change anything between us, Jacob." Esau turned and walked away, leaving footprints in the sand for the first time in over a year, leaving Jacob standing speechless again.

**AN: I guess that maybe the light likes to punish intruders by taking their bodies, and that's how Esau (and, in my opinion, the Mother as well) became the smoke monster. But why would the light impart the ability to transform into the bodies of the dead? I think that could have been another one of Jacob's mistakes, an effort to get his brother back. Just a theory.**


	39. Painstaking

39. **Painstaking**

The one who always had questions inquired as to how they had come to be on the Island, and Mother did her best to explain, presenting the tangled web of truths and half-truths and sometimes outright lies that she had carefully woven into the origin story she so badly wanted for them.

When she explained that she had always been on the Island, just as they had, he reminded her that she had skipped over their birth, and she paused. To admit that they had been born from another would be unthinkable, but she could hardly say that she had slept with one of the men who passed through the Island, either. And so herbs became her method of achieving the miraculous pregnancy, because her sons knew too little to point out the absurdity.

As the fire crackled, Mother told them of how she knew every ingredient, every recipe to succeed where she had failed in producing a living, breathing child. But no matter her efforts, her womb produced nothing except for the occasional stillborn, multiplying her grief. For many years she begged the gods to answer for their curse, explain why she could yield no life. She wished for death on herself, but that was impossible, so she filled her days with searches for a new cure. Any other woman, she said, would have lain with one of the men that washed up on the Island, but those men were filthy and bad, and she could not abide the thought of a child tainted by their evil seed. You needed to be special, she told them in the gravest of tones, and her drawn face softened as she gazed at her black-haired son. Then, catching Jacob's hungry eyes, she smiled at him absently and continued the story.

She said that when the months passed and she felt the first tiny kick inside of her, she leapt for joy, and kissed the ground beneath her feet. Her time alone had ended, and not a moment too soon. The birth of two wracked her body, and she slipped in and out of consciousness thereafter, with only the cries of her newborn children to strengthen her. When she recovered, she wrapped them in cloth she had woven months ago from the softest skin, and wept when one seized her finger with one tiny hand. The dark-haired one was born first, and much larger than Jacob. Of course he was.

"How did you choose my name?" Jacob piped up. His brother glared at him, and Jacob withered under the look. He just wanted one victory, no matter how small it was, in the knowledge that he possessed from birth the one thing he assumed that Brother would never have.

"I thought it was a beautiful name."

He longed to know more, how she decided to name him and not Brother, but Jacob was never the one who asked questions.

"Why did you call me Brother?"

"I did not foresee that I was to bear two sons. Because I am the Mother, I would have called you the Son. But when you became a brother, I decided to call you the Brother instead, and named him Jacob."

Jacob sighed softly, and was sorry for it a moment later, hoping no one had heard his disappointment. It didn't surprise him much, that Brother's name, or lack of one, was special, with his own being of little importance. Sure, Mother had called it beautiful, but when she said the word, she spoke with too much force in an attempt to convince him. Jacob couldn't tell a lie, but he could hear one, at least when he half-suspected it.


	40. Haunted

40. **Haunted**

"You should know that he's using you."

Though he spoke calmly, without even the suggestion of hostility, she spun around and demanded, "What do you want?" She almost didn't recognize him, for he had masqueraded in other bodies for so long, but she could never wipe away image of the dark-clad man from her memory entirely.

Lifting his hands in a peaceful gesture, he said, "I just want to warn you. It's not too late to escape his plans for you."

As he strode closer to her, Ilana backed away until she stood against a tree. "I don't know what you're talking about." Her hand flew to the rifle at her side, and as he eyed it with an amused smile, she cursed the useless reflex that came to her without a thought. Guns would do nothing here, and she understood that more than anyone else, but she still couldn't help but tighten her grip. Perhaps he didn't sound angry, but she feared that most of all, because now she couldn't predict a thing.

"You're only, what, seventeen?"

"_Eighteen_." Oh, he had to know that, he had committed to memory the date of her birth and every day thereafter. He'd haunted her in every single one, whether physically present or just toying with her father. Jacob had shed too many tears over this liar, she told herself, and she would shut out every word he said.

Ignoring her sharp tone, he nodded and said, "Jacob loves you, doesn't he."

The odd question—statement, the way he said it—threw her off. "Don't talk to me about Jacob. Or love."

He cocked his head to one side and laughed, the sound unlike any other laughter she had ever heard. When her father laughed, rare as it was, it rang with childlike joy and made her smile, but even Esau's laughter was like another lie. She could not trust it. "What do you _want_?"

Then he lowered his gaze for a moment before fixing her with a stare again. "I want to warn you."

"With another one of your lies, or will you try to hurt me again? You are the only thing I need to be warned of."

"I'm not a th—" Esau shook his head, and Ilana wondered at his grave tone and the look in his eyes. For once, he showed no signs of anger or deceit. Clearly he had worked on his methods, she thought, and she needed to be even more careful. "You're very young, Ilana, especially compared to Jacob and I. I know it may seem like you know everything about your father, but I've seen more of him than anyone else ever will. He has taught you, and I admit that I haven't helped sometimes to refute this, that I'm this indescribable evil. But there is something about Jacob that you are not old enough to know yet—"

"Don't tell me about my father." She wanted to flee, but he always followed, and she could never outrun him. She could do nothing but wait out his speech and then hope he would leave without tormenting her further. "Whatever you're going to say, you're wrong about him."

"Am I?" Esau folded his hands before him. "Then he has told you how I came to be like this?"

"Of course he did."

"And what did Jacob tell you?"

She struggled to remember. Her father had mentioned it once, briefly, and then said no more, no matter how she questioned him. "There was a cave. We are forbidden to enter, because when you did, it changed you into a monster."

With a sigh, he told her, "Sit down and I'll tell you how it happened."


	41. Wrap

41. **Wrap**

The moment Ilana entered the main room of the cave, Jacob noticed her sagging shoulders, so different from the rod-straight posture with which she carried herself most days. Setting the needle down, he watched her walk straight past him and into her quarters. Usually, she didn't even return to the cave for the night, as she preferred to live amongst the wild nature of the Island, and Jacob sighed with worry. For one so excited to have just turned eighteen, she now behaved as though they had just argued over something, as rare as their disagreements were. Perhaps an Island incident had frustrated her, and she wanted Jacob to answer for it.

Bracing himself for her anger, he poked his head into her room. She sat against the wall at the opposite side of the room, staring down at her hands, and did not lift her head when Jacob approached. Dark curls hid her face, and he wished she would tuck them behind her ear or pull them up so that he could see her eyes. They were so beautiful, the color of chocolate, reminding him of that wonderful exotic food that only outsiders could bring. He couldn't imagine why she would want to veil such eyes with her hair.

"How was your day?"

Still, she did not look up. "Fine."

Crossing the room, he sat by her against the wall and reached to draw the curls out of her face. She shifted away and said, "What?"

"Tell me what's wrong," he said softly. "I want to help."

"You want to help? Why don't you just tell me the truth?"

He pulled back as if slapped. "What do you mean? I could never lie to you."

"You hid the truth. The truth about Esau."

His eyes narrowed, his forehead lined with concern. "Did he…say something to you today?"

Drawing up her legs to her body, she said, "He told me what you did to him. I defended you every time he said anything about you to find out that he was right. He laughed at me for—for trusting you. And he wasn't even telling me the truth out of hatred, he was doing it to warn me."

"To warn you of what?"

"Of you, Dad." Then her shoulders shook as she started to cry, and hid her face in her hands.

"No, no," he whispered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What I did to him was a mistake. I've always wanted to take it back, but I can't. It was a mistake to keep it from you."

"You could have told me. I wouldn't have understood—I still don't get what happened—but at least he wouldn't be right."

"He's not. I never lied to you, Ilana. And from now on, I'll tell you everything."

When she finally looked up at him, her eyes glistened with tears. "You sure?"

"I promise."


	42. Seasons

42. **Seasons**

In the months when clouds shut out the sunlight almost every day, when its rise and fall hid behind dripping skies, the tan-skinned girl with a head full of curls popped into Jacob's existence with a vibrant one of her own. So many nights, Jacob called Ricardo to him as a last resort, when Jacob's head ached form the cries bouncing off the stone walls and his limbs weighed down with exhaustion. To his relief, as the sun continued to lift and lower, the girl stumbled her first steps into Jacob's arms and spoke his name, practicing with a tightly-knit brow as she slowly worked her tiny mouth to pronounce "Fa-der" as if nothing else were more important than that, and he grinned from ear to ear.

Hand in hand, he led her to the beach where she splashed in the waves and giggled, and together they pushed up piles of sand to build the best sand castles the girl could imagine. She clapped her hands and squealed when Jacob hoisted her up on his back, and pumped her little legs as fast as they could go in races across the beach, leaving behind such small footprints next to Jacob's. As the fire crackled and light shifted on the cave walls, he told her stories about how polar bears arrived on the Island (one of her favorites), and of a light that shone within every person, and when she said "Me, too?" he tapped her nose and nodded as she gasped in awe. While she dreamed under the cover of blankets, he spun thread and wove everything from socks to scarves whether she needed them or not, unable to resist the gap-toothed grin and the arms curling around his neck.

And then there was Uncle Esau.

If Jacob's games taught her how to race, Esau taught her how to flee. When the moonlight glinted off the tips of the waves, she jumped at the sound of the most innocent cricket and knew to glance over her shoulder at every noise. Uncle Esau told her that her father brought outsiders to the Island to die, and described the gruesome details to horrified wide eyes. Sometimes Uncle Esau said that Jacob was the devil, or words that Jacob cringed at when Ilana repeated them, and ordered her to never say again. Esau taught her how to hide in the bushes, cowering so low as to be invisible, in desperate games of hide-and-seek that ended in tears when she lost, which was often. From Uncle Esau, she learned to shrink away from smoke when she was too young to be convinced that he would not emerge from the smoldering fire in Jacob's cave. Never had Jacob so despised his brother so much as when Ilana ran to her room and threw the blankets over her head, begging Jacob to make the smoke go away.


	43. Swift

43. **Swift**

One day she didn't return to the cave at nightfall, and Jacob paced the floor of the cave and debated in his mind whether to search for her or not. On the cusp of thirteen, she insisted that he didn't have to watch over her "like a child" anymore, but in exchange, he insisted that she get back before sunset. Some days, she strayed so far that she had to run as fast as her swift legs could carry her in order to return on time. But that night, while oranges and pinks lit up the sky, dancing in the way that so fascinated her in years past, he lost the final shred of patience. He stalked out of the cave, already lecturing her with his thoughts. But as he kicked up the white sand of the beach, he saw a form exiting the jungle and limping out into the clearing, and he called out Ilana's name.

The form limped faster until he recognized Ilana, and she brushed past him on the way to the cave and said, "Hey."

He stared after her, watching the legs amble unevenly, and he shook his head. Then he pounded a fist into his open palm and vowed to punish Esau if this was his work, maybe even if it wasn't, even if Jacob couldn't decide just what he would do yet. When he strode back into the cave, Ilana sat shivering by the fire, and as he leveled himself next to her, she shifted in the direction away from him. In the light of the fire, tears shone on her cheeks, and Jacob's eyes stopped on a bruise on the side of her head, half-hidden by dark tangles. Tight-lipped, he waited for her to speak or just move again, but when she continued to stare straight ahead into the flames with defiant silence, Jacob couldn't wait any longer for an explanation. "Where were you?"

The shrug of the shoulders made him wonder why she refused to answer today, despite her willingness to confess on most. "Nowhere. I slipped and hit my head."

"Really." He didn't say it sarcastically, just let the word hang there, and she bobbed her head in affirmation. "Where did you fall?"

"By the river. Wet rocks."

She still didn't meet his eyes, and that gave away the lie like nothing else. He reached to place a hand on her shoulder, expecting her to draw away, but when as his hand rested there, she winced. Frowning, he pulled back the tip of her threaded tunic that exposed another bruise. His tone warned her not to lie again when he said, "Tell me, Ilana."

"I'm _fine_."

Curling his lip, he stood to his feet and raised his voice. "Don't you lie to me." She blinked up at him without a word. "If Brother did this, he will do it again, and worse. And I won't let him touch you again."

"Okay, okay. He did it. I just didn't want you to—"

"Don't ever keep anything like that from me again!" he said, but towards the end, his voice softened when he saw Ilana grimace. "What, what is it?"

"I didn't want you to panic. I can still go where I want, right?"

"I don't know. Give me some time to think."


	44. Measure

44. **Measure**

Beads of sweat dotted Jacob's forehead as he narrowed his eyes at the needle trembling in his hands. The threads defied him, refusing to intertwine no matter how his fingers guided them, and now his forehead throbbed from staring at the tiny fibers ever since the sun hung at its highest point in the sky. With Mother and Esau bound to return any minute now, Jacob sighed through gritted teeth and determined to finish at least one more row, if only so Esau wouldn't tease him for "laying around" and "doing nothing" all day while they hunted. After all, Esau just didn't appreciate the time and effort required by the loom, and while of course Mother understood, she would want to see more than the pathetic couple of lines that Jacob had spun over the course of the day.

Then Jacob frowned as a shadow overcast the strand hovering before him. As he lifted his eyes, a pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders, and Jacob screamed with all the air he had in him, imagining that the hands belonged to one of the huge-bodied humans that resided at the other side of the Island.

As the sound of laughter filled his ears, Jacob whirled around, twisting out of the hands' grasp to face his brother. "What was that for?" he shouted.

Esau's replies were incoherent through his gasps for air. "If you coulda seen your face," the dark-haired boy howled, slapping himself on the knee. At his side, Jacob's hands balled into fists, but they quickly unfolded when Mother shot him a warning glance. "You have to admit it, that was pretty funny."

Wordlessly, Jacob turned, feet pelting the white sand as he stomped away from the camp. When Esau called after him, "Come on, don't be such a baby," Jacob started to run, heading for the beach. Behind him, he heard Mother softly chastise Esau for frightening his brother, but her weak attempt was hardly the discipline Jacob knew he would have received had he done the same to Esau. Like he ever would have dared. Though Jacob hadn't checked to see, Esau probably returned from that long day of hunting with ten fish, or a couple of boar, where Jacob had slaved away at a bunch of thread that Esau poked fun at whenever the opportunity arose. Any small accomplishment there would pale when measured against Esau's.

By the water, he sat and pulled his legs up to his chest, just close enough for the waves to lap up at his toes when the tide surged. In the distance, he heard panting, and knew that Esau must be approaching. "Go away."

Plopping down on the sand beside his brother, Esau said, "Come on, it was just a joke. Sorry if it messed up your weaving."

"Mother told you to apologize."

"Yeah, but I'd probably do it anyway." When Jacob rolled his eyes, Esau said, "No, really. I'd get bored if you sat out here all day. I'd have to play with _her_." He jerked a thumb back in the direction of the camp, and Jacob laughed a little. "Come back and eat dinner. I got a boar today." That figured, Jacob thought. Esau must have noticed the slump of Jacob's shoulders, because he added, "Your tapestry looks cool."

As they stood up, Jacob said, "You don't have to say that."

"No, really. I know I couldn't do it. Mother's gonna love it."

Then Jacob did smile, hopeful at the prospect of her praising his work when she saw the result of his work. "Maybe."

"Definitely."

The sun had already set by the time they returned to the crackling fire, the roasting boar, and Mother folding a pair of clothes that she had washed in the river that day. "Ah, you two are back. Dinner should be ready soon."

They both disappeared into a tent to grab the senet board. "Think we can finish in time?" Esau whispered, and Jacob nodded eagerly as they set up the stones.

The two raced through the game, so fast that Jacob could hardly plan for his next move. But when Esau growled in irritation, Jacob realized that he had just won. "Yeah!" he said softly.

At that moment, Mother called them to come around the fire, and Jacob nearly tripped over his feet in running out of the tent to announce his victory. Before he could say anything, Mother said, "Jacob, your brother killed a boar today! Isn't that wonderful?"


	45. Immortal

45. **Immortal**

The first time Charlie walked out from the jungle to greet her with open arms, Claire uttered a few sounds like a frightened animal before turning to run with such desperation that she stumbled over her own feet. "It's me, Claire," he protested, the familiar accent music to her ears that she knew couldn't be real. Every couple of days she awoke at night sweating and panting and begging for Jack and the rest to come back for her, or glimpsed John Locke passing through the forest when she knew that was impossible, but she didn't dream like this in the daytime and Locke had never spoken to her. When Charlie offered a hand to help her up, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted.

As she came to consciousness, she saw his face above hers, and she squeezed her eyes shut again.

"It's okay, I'm right here," he whispered, leaning closer so that she could hear him. His breath warmed the side of her cheek and she shivered. The accent and even the soft eyes reminded her so much of Charlie but that frightened her more than anything else.

She stood up and brushed at the dirt on her clothes. "This isn't possible. I'm definitely going crazy." She turned away, but somehow she was still facing Charlie, and she didn't understand how he had moved so quickly. "What _are_ you?"

Ignoring the question, he stepped towards her with outstretched arms. "I missed you so much, Claire. And Aaron."

Just hearing Aaron's name on Charlie's lips again broke Claire's heart and she couldn't help but return his embrace. He stroked her hair, separating strands with the fingers she missed more than anything, and she thought to herself that maybe it was okay that the others left her behind if Charlie was here, somehow


	46. I'm Not Sick

46. **I'm Not Sick**

The loud coughs jerked young Jacob into consciousness at once, and he peered at his brother through the darkness where Esau's whole body quaked on his sleeping mat. "You okay?"

Jacob started out shouting, over the noise of the violent coughs, but Esau dragged one finger across his throat in a silent order for Jacob to shut up. "I'm fine. Don't wake her up."

With a shrug, Jacob lay on his back and pulled the blankets over his head, and pretty soon Esau had stopped coughing. Just as Jacob drifted off to sleep again, his eyes shot open at the noise when Esau choked again. It was a raw sound, like the gasps of one who desperately needed to drink, and something twisted in Jacob's stomach as he listened to his brother. Finally, despite Esau's frantic shake of the head, Jacob shook his mother awake.

"What is it?" she started, but quickly realized why Jacob had woken her. Rushing to Esau's side, she held his trembling frame until the spell had passed, and he breathed steadily again. "Oh, no." When she lifted the sheet that covered Esau's mat, Jacob's eyes widened as they registered the blood that stained the edges. She nearly slapped one hand on Esau's forehead to test the heat there, and hummed to herself like some wordless observation of her son's condition. "Jacob, watch your brother. I'll be right back."

"Why'd you have to tell her?" The dark-haired boy demanded it, or tried to, but strained to just shove the words out of his swollen throat. Jacob wanted to roll his eyes and maybe retort with something sarcastic, but decided not to when he glanced down at the blankets.

Mother returned not long thereafter, thankfully before Esau could have the chance to start coughing again, because Jacob had no idea what he would do if that happened and Mother wasn't there. She sprinkled crushed herbs into a bowl and forced Esau to drink it, although he protested at first, and growled in what must have been pain. He didn't complain of it, though; he never would have, at least in front of Jacob.

* * *

_Continued in the next_


	47. Attention

47. **Attention**

Even after Mother's attempts to heal whatever sickness that had befallen him, Esau's conditioned worsened as the days passed. Sometimes he would go for hours without coughing, begging Mother to allow him to hunt, but she forbade him from so much as getting out of the bed. For a fleeting moment Jacob considered teasing his brother, as he played with the fringes of the blankets and complained of boredom while Jacob could have roamed free, but then Esau would double over without warning and start coughing again. Jacob's breath caught too, because he realized that Esau couldn't breathe during those coughing fits that lasted for longer than could be safe. Once, Jacob placed his hand on Esau's forehead in a rare moment where Esau slept soundly, although the sun was high in the sky and beating down on Jacob's back as he leaned over his brother. As if burned, Jacob jerked his hand away and wondered how Esau could possibly be so cold.

"Don't touch him again!" cried Mother, and Jacob nodded quickly.

That night, Jacob awoke shivering, although he clutched sheets with fists that ached from clinging so hard. He tossed and turned and tried to sleep again. But whenever Esau coughed, even if it was just once, Jacob shuddered, and it occurred to him how stupid it was to come into contact with his sick brother. By the next morning, they shared symptoms, although it had taken several days for Esau's health to decline to that level. As expected, he joked that Jacob was the weak one, but Jacob didn't have the energy to shoot back some retort. In fact, he could barely drag his limbs anywhere, which was just as well because Mother confined him to his bed too.

She paced the ground all the time, wearing holes in the soles of her heels, and from time to time stooped to lay a hand on one of her sons. When Jacob asked what she was doing, she replied that he was going to be okay. In the middle of the night she knelt to lay a hand on Esau and he asked her the same question. As he feigned sleep, Jacob listened intently while she explained that, under normal circumstances, she could heal any illness, yet this one resisted her powers. What that meant exactly, Jacob couldn't quite work out, but it worried him more than anything to hear the strain of fear in Mother's voice.

The following morning, she departed their settlement, saying only that she would not return until sundown.

* * *

_Continued in the next_


	48. Spread

48. **Spread**

As promised, she returned at nightfall, hair frazzled and dirt streaking her face almost beyond recognition. Before she would tell them anything, she wiped their faces with a cool cloth and pressed her hand against their foreheads, but not one muscle on her face twitched, and Jacob could not read her eyes to figure out what had happened. Either she would have good news for them, he thought, or it would be very bad.

"What happened?" Esau demanded. "Where were you?" She hushed him and stretched out her arms so that each palm rested on one of her son's forehead, and she began to whisper words that neither of the boys had ever heard before. They glanced at one another, and Esau shrugged helplessly. Silently he formed the words _crazy woman_, and Jacob giggled, which earned a glare from Mother as she continued to chant.

As she broke away from them and stood to her feet, Jacob frowned as his skin broke out into bumps that ran up and down his arms and legs, and he looked up to see that the same had happened to Esau. "I told you," Mother said in a monotone voice, as if speaking in a dream, "that the men are bad."

"What do you mean?" Jacob rubbed at his arms to warm himself up, but suddenly everything burned as if he had walked into the fire. He cried out and stammered, "M-mother?"

Esau was silent as a stone, but his face was fixed in a grimace and he bit down on his lip. Only then did Mother turn to them again to explain: "This Island is strong, but men are powerful as well. They bring disease with them that it drains us to heal."

_Us? _Jacob assumed that Mother must have been talking about herself and the Island, but he could not be certain, and his thoughts spun together in a haze as the pain worsened. Sweat dripped off his nose and he burst out, "How long will it hurt?"

"I don't know."

Grasping the blankets, he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned with pain as Mother started to chant again, calling upon the magic of the Island a second time. The burning sensation flared within him until, when he did open his eyes, the sights before him were blurry and dark. Jacob finally passed out.

When he awoke later, Mother promised that the sickness was over; the Island had healed him. A miracle, she called it, and Jacob shuddered, wondering if he had done something wrong, if the pain was a punishment for some forgotten disobedience. But she told him no, the men had given Jacob this disease; they'd probably intended it, monsters that they were.


	49. Dead

49. **Dead**

"What's dead?"

"Something you will never have to worry about."

Like his brother, Jacob didn't comprehend _dead_ either, forever closed eyes and the cold skin when he grabbed his mother's hand. And Esau's, tan from years of work in the sun, shone pale in the moonlight. At first Jacob wept because he was confused, and realized that his anger had brought a terrible mistake beyond his knowledge, but beyond that, he grasped little of why Esau slept even days after the accident. He had stabbed Mother, and that must bring death, but Esau, his body had been tossed out of the cave of light, and did that bring death? It didn't have to, Jacob told himself, and there was still a chance. If he didn't understand death then he didn't have to accept it yet.

When he explored the human village, the one where Esau claimed that their mother had killed everyone, Jacob studied the bodies, rested his hand on a chest and slowly came to recognize the lack of a rise and fall, the glazed-over eyes of those who stared into the stars, the sheet-white skin. The village reeked of an unfamiliar odor, and flies circled the corpses as if they also wondered why the men did not breathe. When Jacob returned to his brother, they buzzed there too, and Jacob swatted them away. Before, there was no smell, but now, bile rose in Jacob's throat at the scent and he knew then that Esau was as dead as every man and woman in that village.

Turning away, he crumpled to his knees and vomited on the grass, and sat there for a long moment before he looked back at Esau. Jacob tried one last time, he pulled Esau's head up by the hair so that he sat up like Jacob, but with lidded, sunken eyes. "Wake up, Brother," Jacob shouted, and waited. He swallowed, throat burning from the stench and the vomit, and said, "Wake up."

He waited until his chest ached and he clenched his teeth, until he rested his head against Esau's forehead and choked up sobs. He pled again for Esau to wake up, uselessly, as Jacob understood then. There would be no erasing this. And Mother could no longer whisper soothing promises in his ear, hold him like he held his brother now.

The noise of the insistent flies gradually replaced his sobbing and he slapped one against a rock with the palm of his hand. He carried Esau on his back to the old camp, and placed the body by their mother's, with the white and the black rocks. Jacob never visited that site, later living in a statue by the beach, far away from Esau's body. But even there, his brother haunted him until the day Jacob finally died too.


	50. Spirit

50. **Spirit**

Esau opened his eyes and pushed himself up on arms that wobbled beneath him. White walls surrounded him like those of the Dharma hospitals, and he searched his memories to try and recall how he had ended up in the bed, but pain throbbed in his head and shook his thoughts. When he threw all of his will into transforming, he remained looking at his hands, frowning. Then something wet dripped down his face, and when he reached up to touch it, his hand came away red. He was bleeding, and fast, as if he had bashed his face into that wall. _He was bleeding_.

_Impossible_, unless….

Leaning forward in the bed, he gasped as scenes whirled in front of his eyes: images of a straw-haired man that he loved but wanted dead more than anything in the world, a black and a white rock, a woman who raised him but lied through her teeth about his real mother who appeared as a ghost, smoke surging from a cave of light, wearing faces that weren't his, playing a hundred or more games, another man leaping at him with a knife, the edge of a cliff, plummeting down, waking up afterward. Two thousand years of memories flashed before him in two minutes, and he groaned, absorbing it all, swallowing the knowledge that he had never left the Island in all that time. A lifetime of work, scheming and manipulating, had ultimately failed, and now he must be in some kind of waiting room, maybe for the Hell that some of the men spoke of when they palmed through leather Bibles. In fact, Esau half-expected it.

Then he noticed the handle on the door lowering inch by inch, and Esau pushed back in the bed, eying the door as it opened and that straw-haired man walked in, clad in the white shore he wore in all of Esau's memories. His blue eyes were drawn tight with concern, mouth twisted in a grimace. "Do you know who I am?" He spoke almost in a whisper, as if afraid to frighten Esau.

Barely breathing, Esau hesitated before he said, "I think so." If he remembered correctly, he had killed this man, or ordered another to murder him. With any luck, Jacob would only be slightly furious.

Suddenly Jacob ran up to him, and Esau pushed himself further back in the bed until the wall stopped him. Jacob threw his arms around Esau and ran a hand through the dark hair. "I missed you, Brother." When Jacob's voice broke and his body trembled against Esau's, he realized that Jacob was crying, and Esau could only hold on until Jacob lifted his head and stared at him, tears glistening on his cheeks.

"W-where am I?" Esau looked around the room, and saw tools and machines that he did not recognize, even from the Dharma hospitals.

As he wiped the tears away with his sleeve, Jacob's face broke into a wide smile. "You're free, you're off the Island." Then he nearly jumped off the bed and gestured for Esau to follow him. "I want to show you something."

Carefully, Esau slid off the bed and lifted a hand to his face again; this time he found it dry of blood. Clearly, he was in some place not of the old world, "off the Island," as Jacob had said, if Esau could even allow himself to believe that. The idea alone defied all hope.

They walked out of the room, into a hallway, where he asked Jacob where they were going. "For a walk," he said, and Esau raised one eyebrow in confusion, but did not question Jacob any further. Without another word, Jacob continued until they opened another door and Esau found himself outside, squinting against the sun. On the pavement, vehicles like the Dharma van sat in painted rectangles, and Esau glanced around and almost asked Jacob to explain. But at the moment, Jacob pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked one of the vehicles, saying, "Get in the other side." After a second of fumbling with the handle, Esau opened the door and climbed on the leather seat.

"Where are we going?"

"Just wait, you'll see." Jacob's eyes twinkled mischievously just like Esau remembered, in the days when they laughed with one another and plotted ways to beat the other at Senet.

The vehicle lurched forward, and Jacob showed Esau how to stretch a black band across his chest and buckle it in as Jacob spun a wheel and drove out of the pavement. As he turned onto the road, more of those vehicles sped past him, and Esau stared out the window in awe. The road stretched on for miles, and Esau fingered the leather across his chest as he watched lights blink from green to red and the car halted. When it finally approached a huge building surrounded by a courtyard, Jacob pressed on a pedal and the car stopped again. "This is it." Walking around to the other side of the vehicle, Jacob gave Esau a hand as he stepped out cautiously and said, "Follow me inside."

Never taking his eyes off Jacob, Esau nodded and followed, bare feet pressing against the wooden floor. In the building, he looked from side to side and studied the symbols on the wall, sacred icons for various religions. One was shaped like a donkey wheel, and when Esau laughed, Jacob turned his head and smiled a little but said nothing. They strode ahead further, passing many smaller rooms, but Jacob led his brother into the one lined with rows of pews, domed with a ceiling nearly as far up as the sky. On one of the pews, a dark-haired woman that Esau did not recognize sat with her hands folded in her lap, and she stood up at once when the brothers entered.

"My sons," she cried out, embracing both of them. She made no effort to stop or hide her face as tears streamed from her eyes. "At last, you've finally come." Running her hand along Esau's cheek, she said, "Are you ready?"

An odd question, he thought, and did not answer.

She sighed with pleasure. "So beautiful," she said. "Oh, I've been waiting for you for so long, even when I thought once that you might never come." Something tightened in Esau's chest and he wept with her, confused but relieved, because somehow, where he had always felt somehow wrong and misplaced on the Island, he fit perfectly here without understanding why, in the arms of this stranger that loved him in a way that the woman who raised him never had.

When his mother released them and started walking towards the back of the church, wiping her eyes, Esau repeated the question that still nagged at him. "Where _are_ we, Jacob?"

"Across the sea, Brother."

"But what does that mean? I'm dead, but we're here now. How is that possible?"

Jacob watched his mother approaching the huge set of doors. "This is a place of waiting, until we find the ones that meant the most to us throughout our lives. Here, we can move on with them." As she flung open the doors, a light streamed through. "That's why I had to keep you on the Island, because you could only leave if this light was put out. Those who protect the light, protect this place. I've regretted—so many things—" He paused to steady his breath and tried to continue. "—but now we can pass through, together."

"And if I go with you?" Even as he asked the question, Esau followed Jacob down the aisle as their mother, and the light, beckoned them.

"We can go anywhere, do anything, without the Island holding us back."

"Sounds too good to be true." They were at the foot of the light, looking into it, standing just behind their mother.

"You know I don't lie, Brother." Esau smirked and nodded; that much was true. "I want you to finally go to those places you always wanted to see, and I want to be with you when you do." Their mother turned her head and smiled at them, and Esau smiled back as she walked forward and vanished from sight. With some uncertainty, he glanced at his brother, and Jacob slipped his hand into Esau's. Together, they stepped into the light.

* * *

**AN: Since their ultimate fate was never shown, I like to believe that's cannon. Hard to believe I began this six months ago... More likely than not, I'll revisit them sometime. ****I miss those two already.**


End file.
